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NOVELS, SKETCHES AND 
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NO, 5. 


HOPFEN: 

TRUDEL’S BALL. 

THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF 
LITTLE SPANGLE. 

ECKSTEIN: 

AGAINST THE STREAM. 


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OVERLAND LIBRARY NO. 5 


NOVELS 

AND 

HUMOROUS SKETCHES 


FROM THE GERMAN 
\ 

OF 

HANS HOPFEN and ERNST ECKSTEIN. 


contents: 

H OPFE N : VtRUDEL’s BALL.— ^HE FORTUNES AND FATE OF 

LITTLE SPANGLE. 

ECKSTEIN:'/ against THE STREA.M. 


I 

w 


/ 



CHICAGO: 

L. SCHICK, PUBLISHER. 


Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1885, by 
LOUIS SCHICK, 

in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 


TRUDEL’S BALL. 

[From the German of Hans Hopfen. ] 


Copyright, 1885, by l. schick. 



oHE was a little girl scarcel}* twelve 3’ears old, and 
she was playing ball in the garden. A precocious child 
with (lelicate but serious, rather inquisitive features, with 
luxuriant hair and perfect ej^ebrows, slender, almost fragile- 
looking, but rarely dainty, agile and energetic withal. As 
she stood still and as she sprang forward, as she tossed 
and caught the ball, as she swayed on her hips and 
now stretched upward, now stooped, or when after an un- 
successful clutch at the empty air — which, however, very 
seldom happened — she crept through the bushes in angry 
haste to get the runaway l^all, the sooner the 1)etter — it 
was a fascinating game and if any contemplative admirer 
of human beauty had come along that way, he would 
probabl}' have stopped a while and feasted his e3'es on the 
energ3^ and grace of this active, passionately excited child. 

It is true that veiy few persons passed by. And 
indeed at that time far less than at the present. The two 
“Imperial Residences,” the big cit\' and the suburban 
town, near as they la}" to one another, even at that time, 
had not then extended the arms of their streets until they 
interlaced, and until nobody but the people in the topo- 
graphical bureau, the letter can-iers and tax collectors and 
heads of the municipal departments knew exactly where 
the one began and the other ended. The extensive park 


fi 


trudel’s ball. 


between the two places had not been built up all around 
with crowded streets at that time, and at the end of the 
mile-long bridle path — in which even to this day, in 
obedience to time-honored custom, everybody sets his 
horse into a gallop or starts off for a race — there stood 
only here and there some villa half lost to sight. 

In the grounds surrounding one of these villas Trudel 
was playing ball on the green lawn, between the young 
linden and maple trees, and even if some person had 
come along and peeped in through the grated iron gate 
at the romping girl, little would she have cared, for 
she was utterl}' absorbed in her wholesome plaj', and had 
no longer eyes for anything in the world save for her ball. 

Nor was this ball any common plaything, such as any 
one can take home to his rough boA's from Markgrafen 
Street. It was woven all around with ga}’ colored, floss}’ 
silks, and the many-hued threads wound in and out as 
brilliantly and beautifully as if one had made a quirl iij 
the rainbow or copied a kaleidoscopic figure in weaving. 
Throughout the length and breadth of Charlottenburg and 
Berlin, no mortal child w’as the ow’iier of such a ball. At 
least little Gertrude w\as convinced of this and Cousin 
Gudeke affirmed it also. He asserted that he had smug- 
gled it in his trunk at the risk of his life, on his long 
journey home from India, that land of mystery. And even 
if Trudel did not usually believe all that Cousin Gudeke 
told her, for he was a practical joker who considered it no 
disgrace to impose on the credulity of little children, yet 
she credited him in so for as this, that her ball w’as no 
common ball, but had come from a great distance, and 
that none like it w’ere to be found within a circuit of many 
hundred miUis. 

Ah, the blissful imagination of a child, which performs 


trudel’s rael. 


7 


a magic miracle on its palm and transforms the pebble, be- 
cause it is its own, into a priceless gem ! 

Toda}' however, it was not alone her delight in the 
possession of such a jewel among phu’things, nor her pleas- 
ure in her favorite game, that set ffertrude so breathlessly 
to work, as if she had to earn her board and lodging for 
three months with her tossings and catchings during this 
hour. If you had observed the large, childish e3'es more 
closel}’ as the}’ sent their glances up into the air after the 
ball, but yet occasionally glanced askance to the right or to 
the left, half hidden beneath the eye-lashes, something like 
anger and defiance would have been seen to be gleaming 
in them, which evidently was not meant to be noticed. But 
any one who knew Trudel would have known that some- 
thing had happened, and that Trudel was only tossing and 
catching so frantically to leave no time nor room for other 
thoughts, or to prevent any one’s noticing what kind of 
thoughts were playing ball with her little head. 

And something had happened indeed ! A very extra- 
ordinary scene, a declaration of a decision which left no 
chance for misunderstandings, and as long — as long as the 
bridle path in the park, a whole mile long, if it had been 
written down. 

Trudel had not written it down for herself Not even 
in her memory. And jnst because she did not want to do 
this, she was playing with such suppressed agitation and 
perseverance, that one might have envied the child her 
fierce energy, and at last pitied her for her fatigue. 

She sat down after a while on the rustic seat under 
the large maple tree, leaned her head on her two hands, 
the ball lying in front of her lietween her elbows, and her 
elbows on tlie white-painted table on which were still 
standing the large embroidery basket and the small em- 
broidery fi’ame of her severe lady mother, who had arisen 


8 


trudel’s ball. 


from this very seat an hour before, full of dark resolutions, 
after having given Trudel a serious scolding. 

Trudel took delight in everything that glittered and 
was brilliant in color. After she had gazed a while with 
vacant ej^es, — thinking deeply or not thinking at all — into 
the embroidery basket, she buried her hands in it and 
drew through her slender fingers various skeins of silk and 
worsted, as they lay there in rich profusion, matching first 
these and then those colors together, plaiting little braids 
out of them and undoing them again, and finally took her 
precious ball and crowned it with the most varied skeins 
in Mamma’s embroidery basket, trying if this and that 
color were becoming to its complexion, and whether if the 
outside covering of her pet should ever be injured, she 
could find the exact silks to make it as good as new 
again. Then in case of accident she need not despair. To 
weave a new dress around her darling, she would not be 
afraid to try that. For notwithstanding she was so young, 
she had the hands of a fairy, and wrought wonders with 
her different needles in silks and worsteds, that not many 
grown-up persons could have equalled. 

She inherited this from her mother who liked best to 
spend the day over her embroidery frame. The fact that 
she had remained awa}' from it so long on this occasion 
could only be explained by some violent agitation and its 
consequent headache. 

And into what a passion had the usually so gentle 
lady talked herself ! 

And because of what? .... Because of some careless- 
ness in Trudel’s pronunciation of French and because 
Trudel also seemed to be unable to get up the least inter- 
est in the dates of the Hyksos dynasty. It was a fact that 
the report of her French governess who was always cross, 
had been more unsatisfactory than usual that morning. 


trudel’s ball. 


9 


But, but. . . .children have a wonderful and unbiassed 
talent for jjutting two and two together, and they often 
detect at least something of the truth, when the whole 
of the truth is hidden to their still limited compre- 
hension. And therefore it was that Trudel’s mind was 
oppressed by a growing uneasiness which she could only 
hold in check by the physical exertions of her game of 
ball. For it did not seem consistent, so thought this 
shrewd little person, that Mamma, all on account of an 
old French governess and a handful of much older Egyp- 
tian tyrants, should declare right out and in a blazing ex- 
citement that things could not go on so any longer, and if 
Miss Gertrude (as soon as dear Mamma got angry she 
always called Trudel by her full name), if Miss Gertrude 
did not repent, and make a radical change in herself, the 
helpless widow, no matter how hard it would he for her, 
would find herself compelled to bring a gentleman into the 
house, who by his earnestness and strict discipline would 
show her little daughter and the rest of the household, 
who had been going along without any controlling mascu- 
line will far too long that. .. .that. .. .well, that things 
could not go on so any longer, and, how necessary a man, 
a father was. , 

A second husband. . . .a stepfather. . . . ! Trudel had 
said nothing wdiatever to this astounding perspective — she 
only opened her eyes to their fullest extent and stared at 
her mother with mingled emotions of terror, stupefaction, 
awe and inabilit3- to comprehend. Whereupon Mamma 
had burst into a flood of tears and had sobbed forth some- 
thing not entire!}' coherent, about the ingratitude of chil- 
dren in general and Gertrude’s naughtiness in particular, 
imperatively necessary training, and an extremely un- 
necessary nerv’ous headache, and had then rushed off into 
the house, sobbing, with her cambric handkerchief held to 


10 


trudel’s ball. 


her eyes, so that as she ran up the steps, she tripped on 
her pretty wrapper, stumbled, and came very near falling. 

If Trudel had heard aright, Mamma had even driven 
into town — without her — and without making up. Trudel 
was left alone in the garden with an indefinite conscious- 
ness of guilt, her remarkable ball and her constantly recur- 
ring foolish thoughts. Trudel understood next to nothing 
about marriage. But she knew she would not have given 
her naughtiest doll a stephither just from malice or anger 
alone. This she felt deeply and distinctly. 

“That woidd be a real punish-father ! ” said the child 
aloud to herself, and then, as if startled b}' her own 
voice and her ideas expressed aloud, she seized her 
ball once more, and springing to her feet, began to play 
again, almost more impetuously than before. Trudel 
was not sentimental b}’ nature, as j'ou see, and she pos- 
sessed a happy and instinctive tendenc}’ to maintain her 
equilibrium in such matters by physical exertion, rather 
than to nurse her inward wrath by idle meditations. But 
she did not succeed very well in doing so this time. High 
as she threw the ball, skillfully as she caught it again, she 
did not get rid of her tormenting thoughts, and several 
times, right in the midst^of her best spring, it seemed to 
her as if some pain had seized her by the back of her neck 
and turned her around, exactly as if the punish-father were 
already standing behind her. 

“ Punish-father ! ” was an expressive term, and she had 
to laugh over her invention. Which shows that she was a 
child and of unspoiled humor. But her laugh did not last 
long. 

Who in the world could it be? Whom would Mamma 
select for such a position? A lad^’ of such exquisite taste 
and with such a kind heart, who had wept for her lost hus- 
band so tenderly and mourned for him so judiciously, and 


trudel’s ball. 


11 


who surely could not carry her indignation against a 
naughty little girl so far as to give Trudel the first man 
who came along, for her father. 

No, it could not be so. The little ball player stood still 
a while thinking of her dead Papa, and began to weep her- 
self. She always cried when she thought of her deceased 
father, and this time as a matter of course. What good 
did it do? The best of men would never come back again. 
And after he had been lying a few years in the ground, 
Mamma had made up her mind to give him a successor. 

But whom? Who could tell her this? That 

Mamma, such a beautiful, 3’oung and wealthy widow, must 
get married again at last, this was something that every 
one that came to the house had long said. And Cousin 
Gudeke, the one w'ho had smuggled the lovely ball out of 
India at the risk of his life, he said it the most fre- 
quently and urgently of them all. He kept saying that 
Mamma was not an Indian widow, and her greatest mis- 
fortune was ennui. Ennui, he said, was the mother of the 
worst follies, and even of crimes. Not what is usuall}' 
called ennui in society, but ennui on a large scale, to which 
people consecrate their lives, and which becomes their 
tyrant, moloch, fate, if they do not struggle against it in 
time and with God’s assistance. ^ 

Trudel considered such remarks, which she did not 
understand, to be perfect nonsense. But they did not 
astonish her. Cousin Gudeke w’as in the habit of talking 
nonsense. Besides, he talked considerabl}', — about the 
mother's marriage, about the daughter’s ball, about every- 
thing under the sun .... only he had never dropped a word 
as to whom Mamma was to wed in her second maiTiage. 

He surely could not have meant himself? Ah, the 
mere idea made Trudel laugh. On account of the masculine 
energy and long-needed strictness, it would be impossible 


12 


TRUDEL’S BALL. 


for the choice to 'fall on this easy-going sleepy-head. 
Cousin Gudeke the master of a wild creature like Trudel ! 
Nonsense! Just let him try it! There had been plenty 
of opportunities for him to try it. He had been coming 
and going in the house as if it were his own, ever since 
the memory of man — I should say, ever since the little 
creature who was here racking her brains, had been 
capable of remembering. 

Even Papa had been accustomed to Cousin Gudeke. 
He had been, as it were, his right hand in business mat- 
ters and his other self in the oflSce. When her father came 
home from the factory he almost alwaj^s brought his Mr. 
Gudeke with him to dinner. And that they should sit 
down to the same card table in the evening, was as inevik 
able as Amen to the prayer. 

And when the owner of the factory died, his comrade 
Gudeke so bravely took the place of his deceased friend, 
that the widow as well as the orphan were under great ob- 
ligations to him. Elderly bachelors are far more inveter- 
ate creatures of habit than married people. And so this 
one, after the funeral of his friend and partner in business, 
continued to come to the house almost every day as before ; 
he sighed over the void in the hearts of those left behind, 
and the vacanc}’’ at the card table of the deceased ; he con- 
soled and gave advice, he made propositions and reports, 
and carried on the widow’s business matters, at least those 
connected with that part of her property invested in the 
factory, as faithfully and shrewdly as if they had been his 
own. One might even assert with confidence that since 
the death of his elderly friend the honest Gudeke had 
transferred all his bereaved aflections to the family left by 
the former, and it would have been impossible for him to 
imagine how he ever could get along without this home, or 
this home without him. In several of the things which 


trudel’s ball. 


13 


her cousin’s solicitude was never weary of proposing, 
Trudel found much that was desirable, for instance, in the 
fact that he was urging her mother to exchange this villa 
in which the deceased had spent his last days, and in 
which she was reminded at every step of a vanished happi- 
ness, for a residence in town, where she could turn to new 
ideas more easily and could provide better for her little 
daughter’s education. Living out here between the coun- 
tr}' and the park was reasonable enough when the owner 
of the factory wanted to have his home near his office. But 
the lonely widow must pine and grow old out so far. 
Gudeke himself wanted to move into town and set up a 
bugg}', so as to fly down the mile stretch after his labors 
were ended and still keep up as before the habits which 
had grown so dear to him. 

An older person would perhaps have drawn the con- 
clusion from all this, that the honest cousin had been im- 
pelled by no other idea than that of being promoted to the 
position of strict stepfather to Trudel ; but she in her child- 
ish mind considered it impossible that her mother could 
select for her husband such an eveiy day personage, whose 
every peculiarity they all knew by heart, who had long since 
ceased to stand upon ceremoii}- with any one in the house, 
at whose coming and going the dogs no longer barked nor 
the cocks crew. How could her mother ever let herself be 
called — “ Mrs. Gudeke ” — some fine day, by rights ! All 
that w’ould be w’anting then would be for this step-papa to 
adopt her outright, or else for people, just by mistake, to 
call her “Trudel Gudeke ! ” A lovely name, to be sure ! — 
the very w'orst she ever did hear of ! 

AVell, she felt perfectly safe now. Her cousin as her 
Mamma’s second husband had become an impossibility' 
with this last suggestion in regard to his dreadful name. 

But — and the little flyaway fell to racking her brains 


14 


TRUDEL S BALE. 


again — but — and she threw her ball high up into the air 
above the trees — who else could it be? 

“Is your gracious lad^’ mother at home? ” an unctuous 
voice inquired in an obsequious tone. 

Trudel turned her head and saw the letter carrier com- 
ing up the gravel path. She nodded only, for it was not 
her way to reply to every one’s address like other childi’en. 
But then it suddenly occurred to her how anxioush' and 
repeatedly Mamma had inquired after the letter carrier, 
earl}' this morning before the storm and even in the midst 
of her greatest excitement, and expressed her surprise that 
the usually so punctual man had not yet made his appear- 
ance. Perhaps he had brought something in his mail bag 
to bring her into a more agreeable frame of mind. 

“Just give me the letters!” said the little girl sud- 
denly, making a move as if she were going up to the house. 

The letter carrier had no scruples about handing the 
letters in his charge to the daughter of the house. 

Trudel glanced over the addi’esses : this letter was 
from Gerson Bros., that one from Bonwitt and Littauer, 
this one from “Petrus, modiste-coiffeur ”.... nothing but 
matters connected with dress ; the fourth was from Aunt 
Cornelia and the fifth from Councillor X Y’s wife — not a 
single dove with an olive branch, not a single masculine 
handwriting, no threatening stepfather in sight. 

“Oh, please carry the letters yourself up to the 
house ! That will be best.” said disappointed jMiss Curi- 
osity. And the letter carrier smiled to himself at the half 
grown young lady, already so full of whims, who preferred 
to toss her plaything up into the blue sky rather than to 
intrude upon her angry 3Iamma Avithout being sent for. 

Every time she caught the ball she Avould softly say 
to herself: “who? who? who?” and then clasp her ten 
fingers as closely as she could around the apple of her 


TRUDEL’S BALL. 


15 


dream kingdom and pray that God would let her know her 
mother’s intentions and point out to her in time the man 
who was to become her stepfather, so that she could defend 
herself if it were possible. 

Just then a dog barked outside the fence. Trudel 
knew it well, the whining of that terribly nervous little 
animal, that seemed to be made up of sheer impatience. 
She was frightened. Was this dog’s throat the instrument 
employed by fate to give her her answer? Trudel nodded 
in response to the greeting called to her by a 5’ouug gentle- 
man and walked slowly toward the gate. The way of turn- 
ing the knob to the lock of the gate from the outside was 
known well enough to every friend of the family, including 
the one now standing outside. But he had such starched 
manners, he was so entirely removed from obtrusiveness, so 
particular in all his actions, that he would not even have 
set his foot inside a wide-open door until he had been cour- 
teously requested to do so. 

But his long-legged greyhound that was forever yawn- 
ing and its yawn sounding like a doleful whine, that kept 
poking its long nose incessantly into the pockets of one’s 
apron, expecting to find sugar in them, and whose tail 
always curled down toward the ground like an enormous 
interrogation point, — this impudent hound that could not 
be welcome to anybody, he took around with him every- 
where — unrequested. “ C'etait fort que Jui. Another 
habit ! It’s like going into the country to come out here ! ” 

“Well, if we are living out in the country, Harald 
Richter comes pretty often — at least lately .... He was still 
in the parlor last night when thej' sent me to bed. . . .And 
here again today? hm, hm ! ” Trudel was saying rap- 

idly to herself as she walked toward the visitor more 
soberly than was her usual custom. She opened the gate 


16 


TRUDEL’S BALL. 


and extended her disengaged hand in gi’eeting: “Good 
afternoon, Mr. Richter.” 

“ Good afternoon, little Trndel, but what makes you 
look at me in such astonishment? She felt at this , 
moment, herself, that she had never before observed the 
gentleman so closely. She blushed to her very ears at his 
question, but she did not, however, allow it to interrupt 
her contemplation, l)ut continued to gaze into his face, 
and when she had finished with his face, she inspected his 
clothes, his attitude, his walk, his boots, his gloves, and 
even his dog. 

“We will leave Metta outside the gate,” said the 
courteous gentleman, giving his four-footed companion to 
understand this bj" a significant gesture, so that the latter, 
3’awning with his doleful whine, sat down upon his gray 
interrogation point, and with a longing glance, resigned 
himself to view the lovely grounds from without. 

“ Wbat liave you there in your hand, 1113' child? Ah. 
what a beautiful ball ! Do 3’ou bawl when your ball goes 
into the mud? ” 

“ Horrors ! ” said the little girl, “ what a dreadful pun ! 

I never let my ball go into the mud, it is a great deal too 
nice for that. I am skillful enough to catch it eveiy time.” 

“ We’ll see about that right away,” said the man, ex- 
tending his arms all read}' for the game. 

It was perfectl}' amazing, the pleasure and willingness 
displa}'ed b}' every one of these gentlemen that came to 
the house, in regard to an}^ childish game ! Eveiy non- 
sensical scheme contrived b}' the little maiden was admired 
and every caprice was responded to as far as it lay in their 
power. If Trudel reall}" did go too far, these complaisant 
gentlemen, who visited the house for love of the mother, 
and thought the}' could best coax their way into her good 
graces, by paying court to the daughter, Avere chiefly to 


trudel’s ball. 


17 


blame for it. And how the}- did pay court to her ! There 
was a regular strife for the favor and good will of this 
half-grown little creature, who had never yet quite made 
up her mind why she was thus overwhelmed with these 
attentions, as undeserved as they were subversive of disci- 
pline. Eveiy single one of them claimed that she was the 
most exquisite, accomplished and charming little creature 
in the world; her commonest remarks w-ere considered 
remarkable, her whims, delightful, and her silliness, de- 
licious. It followed as a matter of course, that the spoiled 
child gradually came to regard herself as an especially 
gifted being. She considered herself entitled to be super- 
cilious to all those silly people who did not seem to 
demand aiything better, and she finally applied this un- 
lovely disposition to those persons w'ho had no reason to 
expect anything but what was good and kind from her — 
such as her mother, her governess and the considerable 
remnant of humanit}^ which made no pretensions of any 
kind to the white hand of the still handsome widow of the 
manufacturer. 

But much as Trudel enjoyed this petting, those who 
took pains to gain her favor accomplished but little. Chil- 
dren, even naughty children, are well aware of the fact that 
those who spoil them are not doing right. And the little 
heroine of this little story, even at this tender age, was 
w-ise enough to acknowledge to herself that this crazy 
treatment w'as not making her any better nor indeed any 
more lovable, even in the eyes of her own mother. She 
considered each one of the family friends more stupid than 
the last, and w'ent right to the point in this, wfith that sur- 
prising instinct of childish simplicity. This w'as shown 
too by the fact that it pleased her to except Cousin Gudeke 
and Harald Richter from this harsh condemnation — Cousin 
Gudeke, because he claimed to have brought her the love- 


18 


trudel’s ball. 


liest ball in the world from far-away India, and had known 
her from her babyhood; — Harald Richter, — well, why 
should she except him particularly? — Probably because of 
the simple reason that he paid less attention to her than 
any of the rest. Not that he would not have considered it 
worth his while to trouble himself more than was pleasant 
with the immature little flyaway. But he lapsed oftener 
than any of the rest from his role, and not infrequently 
did it happen that he entirely forgot the little household 
tyrant, wlien he looked at the lady who had made such 
havoc with his kiud heart. This shows that he loved 
Trudel’s mother with a genuine passion, which causes a 
man to forget the necessary discretion and in his infatua- 
tion to do exactly the contrary’ of that which would 
further his interests. Harald Richter was in fact the 
youngest of the troop of suitors. Almost as young as the 
lady of the mansion to whom he was paying court. Twenty- 
nine years old then? Well, we will say. . . .of course only 
referring to Mr. Richter : thirty-one. They had been ac- 
quainted a long while, they had attended the same dancing 
school when they were children, and Harald, when a senior 
had written a whole volume of poems in her honor. Veiy 
poor poems, it is true ; but as was shown by what followed, 
the maiden so industriously sung was not worthy of any 
better ones, for the j’oung student’s lady-love without the 
slightest compunctions allowed herself to become the bride 
of a well-to-do, prosaic business man, and indeed went 
so far in her lack of esthetic taste as to consider herself 
exceptionally happy with that honest philistine. 

Young Richter did exactly what other men are in the 
habit of doing in such cases, which are no longer unusual 
— he consoled himself abundantl}' and in many ways. But 
— and indeed, he was a curious fellow, this good Richter — 
when after twelve years of mortification and consolation, he 


trudel’s ball. 


19 


suddenly' awoke to a realization of the fact that not only 
was his fortunate rival deceased, but that his old foolish 
love was not j’et entirel3’’ dead, he went out to the suburb 
and first experimented on his own heart and then on the 
heart of his old-time friend, and as such experiments take 
time, he had been going over the same ground now for 
about six months, and that too, oftener than once a week. 
It had b}’ this time become a regular habit with him, but 
it could not go on this way and some decision must be 
arrived at some time. 

They had nearly come to one the evening before. 
The lady too, who thirteen years ago had looked upon the 
sentimental Harald as “hardly more than a boy,’’ now con- 
sidered that Mr. Richter, the mature man, would suit her 
ver}' well as to age, and that he was besides a pleasant and 
reliable gentleman, with whom a seriousl}’ disposed woman 
might well take the chances of being happy. There was 
indeed a fair share of sentimentalism and poetry still in 
him. But was that any reason for not taking the chances, 
ah, was it not the best of all reasons for taking them ! 

All this made her pensive and almost anxious. She 
went around the house more silent than was her wont, was 
vexed more often than usual with the little fl^’away, whom 
she called first Gertrude and then Trudel, and aroused the 
most profound solicitude on the part of Cousin Gudeke, 
who kept coming again and again fi’om force of habit. 

There is no telling whether without this unlooked-for 
incentive to anxiety, the intimacy, as free from danger as 
it was of long standing, which for years had taken the said 
Gudeke to and fro between the factoiy that was owned in 
common and the villa of his deceased friend, might not 
have remained unchanged till the death of both parties. 
But now the faithful friend found himself suddenly dis- 
turbed in all his habits, he experienced continual embar- 


20 


trudel’s ball. 


rassment and felt as if he must ask every plank in the old 
house whether he did not “step too noisily or too softly." 
What was most disquieting about the whole matter w^as, 
that Cousin Gludeke found himself compelled to the same 
conclusions as his fair friend in regard to the qualities and 
advantages of this inconvenient Mr. Richter, and that they 
had all the more weight with him, because his favorable 
opinion could not be influenced by Harald’s bad poetiy nor 
by his so-called honorable intentions toward him. 

But, as Cousin Gudeke was the farthest removed 
from a sentimentally inclined disposition, on the contrary, 
rather a creature of habit, who, with the changes that 
would enter the house with a new husband, would be to 
his most profound regret, driven awa3''from the house, “at 
whose hospitable hearth he had been in the habit of toast- 
ing his feet for the last decade,” — for this reason he had 
made a courageous resolve, had faced the danger and laid 
a proposition before Gertrude’s mother that would decide 
his and her own and Harald’s fate in a very short space of 
time. Gudeke wanted to know where he stood ; this hov- 
ering between hope and fear, these exalted and depressed 
moods, this discomfort in a house where eveiything here- 
tofore had gone like clock-w-ork — could not go on an}- 
longer. What he should do in case the decision should 
result in favor of his younger rival, he would not even 
think of beforehand. An impartial observer might perhaps 
have told him in view of the menace to all the Gudeke 
habits of living, that in such a case he would plunge head 
over heels into any other matrimonial opportunit}- that 
came in his waj', which promised him comforts similar to 
those he had been enjoying hitherto. But I should not have 
advised aiy one to have made such a suggestion to this 
otherwise good natured man, to his face, that is. I am cer- 
tain there would have been blood-shed. The honest fellow 


trudel’s ball. 


21 


was then in his most resolute frame of mind, and long past 
joking. 

Neither had Trudel’s Mamma received what he had 
said to her in a joking spirit. She might perhaps have 
given him her opinion on the spot, if she had known ex- 
actly the state of aflairs between herself and Harald 
Richter. But this latter in his inexhaustible politeness 
would not come out with what he had to say, but even to 
this day bowed in humble, monosyllabic adoration before 
her whom he had always regarded as an exalted being, from 
the days when as a j’oung lady, she seemed so superior 
to him — although now the relative proportion of their ages 
had altered so entirely to the lady’s satisfaction. Well, 
women know how to help themselves out in such cases. 
The fair one adored from this entirely too reverential dis- 
tance knew' well enough how to refer at the right moment 
to the swarm of her other suitors and to mention the lovely 
name of Gudeke w’ith especial emphasis, wdiose owner was 
on the point of breaking the ties of the most devoted 
friendship, because — The lady hesitated and stopped here, 
it was impossible to find the words she was not seeking, 
and blushingly allowed Harald, who was suddenly over- 
whelmed with premonitions of future rapture, to guess for 
himself the reasons of so significant a menace. 

The young man did not lose his head, and was pretty 
good at guessing. The mortifications, consolations and 
reflections he had experienced during the last thirteen 
3'ears, w'ere all blown away together by one breath from 
these lovely lips, and he at once prepared to lay before the 
lady of his love the same proposition which Cousin Gudeke 
had already made, although rather more circumstantial, 
sentimental and clearer than the latter’s. 

However, before the eloquent speaker had got beyond 
the introduction, or what might be called the general part 


22 


trudel’s ball. 


of his discourse, or had put any personal questions, Gudeke 
himself walked into the garden in bodily presence, and 
soon after him came a third, fourth and fifth caller, until 
the dozen was complete, and with it vanished every possi- 
bility of telling the lovelj' hostess what Harald’s heart was 
burning to communicate, and hers to hear. 

They both sat there as if in a "fever, giving those 
around them the most amazing answers to the simplest 
questions, and when they did either of them get to talking, 
manifesting an enthusiasm for certain things for which they 
never had cared before, and which more than once almost 
involved them in a quarrel against their will. Gudeke 
said nothing the while, but he blew occasionally into his 
clasped hands and said to himself in private : “ A delight- 
ful evening ! This is the last straw, to have things go on 
like this ! Quod non! ” 

In his intimac}", sanctioned by long habit, the good 
man contrived an opportunity right in the middle of the 
parlor, to tell the lad}" his opinion in a few words, without 
the rest perceiving it. Harald could not of course commu- 
nicate all that he had on his heart in a few words, and 
when all arose to go, he, the youngest of the callers, felt 
that he ought not to remain behind alone with the beauti- 
ful widow. Only as he was taking his leave he allowed 
himself to press her hand a little more than usual and as 
she permitted this, he said in a low tone : “ I had so much 
to tell you tonight. That I was not able to do so, makes 
my heart very heavy Do not be angry with me.” 

The eyes of the lady thus addressed sparkled, her lips 
parted in a smile, and she said : “ I am not angry with 

you, Harald but it seems to me that once upon a time 

you knew better how to help yourself out. If any one is 
prevented from speaking, who can prevent him from 


trudel’s ball. 23 

writing what he was unable to say? You wrote so beauti- 
full}’ in the long ago.” 

More than this they could not say to each other unob- 
served. And surely it was enough for the present. They 
separated in higher spirits and more cheerfully than usual. 
He was now pretty certain of success. How sweetly she 
had referred to what he had written her in his lovelorn 
days ! And she was not displeased with him .... not at 
all ; her eyes had affirmed this still more distinctly than 
her lips. 

The lady was no less content with herself. She had 
in the prettiest waj", artlessly invoking a sentimental 
memorj', requested a written proposal of marriage from 
him, in which the “laggard in love” would have to set 
forth his love as well as his intentions, and she was certain 
that he was already at work upon the momentous docu- 
ment when she tied the strings of her little night cap in 
front of her mirror. 

And in this she was not mistaken. Harald wrote and 
wrote half the night. First a letter far too long, then a 
condensed epitome of this and finally a third, an entirely 
new letter. And with this he was satisfied. 

But as nowhere do more wonderful things happen 
than in this world, the eager 3'oung man concluded the 
next morning, after he had soundly slept on it, that his 
third letter did not present what he wished to say exactl}'^ 
as he meant it either, and that his excited heart had made 
his hand as w'ell as his ideas tremble. 

However he w\as not able to compose a fourth epistle 
this morning, for on the one hand he could not hope to 
express his sentiments in a more pleasing form — he was 
not even then calm enough — and on the other, his business 
would not allow him to sacrifice time as he might like, 
during the day, to his epistolary labors. 


24 


trudel’s ball. 


So the letter would have to travel out there. A loving 
eye would be able to read it aright. To be sure, the fair 
one addressed was a lady of experience .... she had per- 
haps raised her ideas of his writing very high, recalling 
his youthful sins in the poetical line, and what if after this 
long time the very first lines disappointed her. . . . ! 

Thinking thus, he withdrew the letter which he had 
alread}' pushed half way into the letter-box. To send such 
an effusion by mail to the lad}" of his love with a stamp on 
it, a postmark on the back and another on the front .... 
the declaration that was to decide his future .... no, that 
would be too common ! He w’ould devise some other way. 

What was the use of racking one’s brains ! As soon 
as his lousiness matters were attended to, he would drive 
out there again, himself, and, if possible, with his letter in 
his pocket tell her right out and squarely, without any 
reservations, just what he wanted and what she ought to 
do. A straightforward course was the best. That was 
settled ! 

She, however, had hardl}" closed her eyes. She had 
composed a dozen letters in her mind, each more ravishing 
than the last, how the dear fellow would sue for her hand, 
and if she rather wondered that already, before she was 
tripping around in her wrapper and slippers, a basket of 
roses or something of the kind had not been brought to 
her, to awaken her, with a declaration of love concealed in 
it, surpassing all the effusions she had imagined, she really 
lost her senses, when at breakfast and again at lunchtime, 
she saw the postman pass the garden gate without ringing. 

What a wet blanket this had cast over the fair lady’s 
spirits, Trudel had had to learn with shuddering compre- 
hension and rebellious hearf. What a morning it had 
been ! And her only consolation was her ball. And now 
this Mr. Harald Richter had arrived unexpectedly and 


trudel’s ball. 


25 


wanted to pla}- with her and with this ball ! This struck 
Trudel as being extremely odd, and she did not know 
what she should say. 

The child knew nothing whatever about the little epi- 
sode which had been interrupted thirteen 3’ears ago by her 
father's wooing her mother, and which was now to be 
resumed, and with entirely' different intensit}'. But with 
that marvellous intuition which belongs to the feminine 
creature from babyhood up, Trudel began to have a fore- 
boding that this man wanted to assume an especial signifi- 
cance in her future existence. And we know already that 
her childish reflections had led her to the distinct con- 
clusion that Harald thought he had been chosen for her 
“ punish-father.” 

She looked at him and looked at him, and discovered 
that he was a veiy handsome man and that his whole 
appearance revealed an earnestness and his movements a 
determination which could not fail to obtain the masteiy 
over a wild little creature like herself. 

“I wonder if he can plaj' ball well. ... ! ” 

But just look at him ! His ball-plaj'ing had been onl\' 
a meaningless remark. After the first words, which Trudel 
had not answered immediate!}’, the supercilious creature 
had laid her treasure down carelessl}’ upon the table, and 
walked awa}’ toward the house and up to a servant who 
was sweeping the steps at the foot of the terrace. 

“Is Madame receiving calls this afternoon?” His 
entire interest seemed to be concentrated in this question 
as if there ne^'er had been an}’ ball from India nor any 
Trudel in Charlottenburg. 

But it seiwed him just right when old Gotthold told 
him that Mamma certainly would profoundly regret it, but 
that she was not at home now, having driven into Berlin 


26 trudel’s ball. 

to do some shopping. She would surely be home again by 
evening. 

Trudel thought that Gotthold might have left out the 
“profoundly regret it” part of his remark. Or would 
Mamma really regret so very much that she had missed 
Harald’s call ! , 

This idea sent the blood surging into Trudel’s face. 
She clenched her fingers convulsively and bit her lips with 

her teeth. No, never, never it was impossible that 

Harald should ever become her father ! Not he! Nor an}’ 
one ! Not he of all men ! And why not? She could not 
tell why not, did not want to know ! She was a child and 
said yes and no, as her little heart impelled her, and this 
time everything within her cried out No ! all of a sudden, 
and so distinctly, that she had to make an effort to keep 
from screaming aloud : “No ! ” herself. 

In the mean while the gentleman came walking back 
from the house, buried in thought, and it really seemed as 
if in his dejection and indecision, he Tvould not have noticed 
the child again, but would have gone on out of the garden 
without a word of greeting. 

“Won't you stay to dinner?” said Trudel, or rather 
she called it to him as he was passing her in his revery 
about twenty paces distant. Hardly had the words escaped 
her lips than she would have liked to get them back out of 
the air and swallow them again. How could it have ever 
entered her head to persuade that creature to remain? No, 
indeed, he must go away, far away and never come back 
any more ! 

But now it had been said, and she saw the effect. 
Perfectly enraptured, Harald turned toward her ; his eyes 
were beaming, and he extended his hands, and would cer- 
tainly have said something extraordinarily nice, if the 
greyhound Metta, probably from disgust at her master’s 


trudel’s ball. 


27 


unsuccessful errand, had not at that very moment uttered 
that complaining whine with her mouth wide open which 
ever}' time quivered thi-ough all of Trudel’s nerves. 

Thus interrupted in his pleasant excitement, Harald 
only said: “M}' dear child, I should not like to intrude 
upon your Mamma.” 

The little girl could not speak, but she shook her 
head, giving thus an asseveration which according to her 
view of the matter she might better have kept to herself. 

Nor did this shake of the head fail of its effect, and 
something came over Ilarald’s heart that impelled him to 
take both the child’s hands, and utter the question : “And 
does Miss Gei’trude like me a little too? ” 

Trudel was so startled b}^ this unexpected “Miss 
Gertrude ” that she nodded her little head again, this time 
affirmatively, but probably inadvertentl}', and at any rate 
quite contrary to her intention. 

Harald passed his hand caressingly over her hair and 
the long braid behind. Trudel would have liked to bite 
him in the hand in her rage ; she turned awa}’ and picked 
up her ball from the table. 

“ Shall we play a little? ” the gentleman then asked, 
and there was a cordial tone in this inquiring voice, a win- 
ning fascination, that insinuated its way into one’s inmost 
heart, even wdien one was so bitterly hostile to him as 
Trudel believed she was. She felt all at once so anxious 
.... on account of her mother’s heart — as she believed — 
whose affection she did not want to share with any strange 
man and least of all with this one. Her mother’s affection 
for her had certainly revealed itself in these last few days 
very much disguised. And this v-ery da}' it had been 
hardly possible to recognize it. . . .hm, hm ! 

But as he called to her again and darted away across 
the grass and tossed her darling ball to her scientifically 


28 


trudel’s ball. 


straight from his remote position, what wonder that she 
caught it ! It was indeed a point of honor with her not to 
miss it and let it “go into the mud.” And that she should 
fling it back again no less scientificallj^ than he, was a 
matter of course. They played thus for quite a while and 
Trudel forgot all her foolish thoughts and rejoiced in her 
meny, skillful partner. She had to give her whole mind 
to it, and she grew more and more at her ease, only occa- 
sionally she pressed her hand involuntaril}’ against her left 
side, for something was hammering away so madly inside 
there, and it seemed to her that her breath came shorter 
than usual. 

Only that provoking greyhound caused an interrup- 
tion of this pleasant quarter of an hour. The “ nervous ” 
Metta, who either could not endure ball-playing in itself, or 
else could not bear to have her master moving to and fro 
in such high spirits on the green lawn without her, began 
to run up and down in front of the fence as if possessed, 
howling in her jealousy and impatience, and scratching up 
the gravel and turf through the iron rods, at such a rate 
that even the most long-snflering individual would really 
have enjoyed giving the writhing animal a kick. 

Ilarald Richter called out sternly to his unmannerl}^ 
four-footed pet, when IMetta sat down again on her gra}- 
interrogation point, but half sideways, only pretending, as 
it were, and her lips quivering so in her restlessness that 
the pointed teeth were visible. 

The two ball-players paused to take breath for a while, 
and the delightfully excited Trudel could not refrain from 
ejaculating: “Ah, but you do throw splendidly, Mr. 
Richter ! ” 

“ Well, pet, I did succeed prettj’ v/ell,” replied the 
gentleman, strangely pleased at the child’s approbation. 
“We will alwaj'S be good friends !. . . .for our whole lives 


trudel's ball. 


29 


long ! . . . . the very best friends in the world ! .... do you 
agree, Trudel?” 

Triidel did not notice that he was now calling her by 
her nickname again. She did not know what it was that 
impelled her to lay her hand in the one he offered her .... 
she only felt that she did it with pleasure. But with this 
hand-clasp she was not thinking at all of the vow of friend- 
ship, but was confirming to herself and him the unspoken 
reservation : “M}' father 3 011 never shall be.” 

Harald, however, was thinking that now he had won 
the most important piece on the board, and he was not 
Old}' sure of the mother’s love, but of the little daughter’s 
affection as well. Now there could l)e no failure, nothing 
was lacking; hannon^' in the family was positivel}’ as- 
sured. How happily the}' would all live together ! Posi- 
tivel}' certain ! 

It ma}' be readily understood that in this frame of 
mind he concluded to staj' to dinner. He did not need to 
be embarrassed either for want of a good excuse. 

“Shall we pla}' on?” he inquired with a beaming 
countenance. 

“Yes, sir,” said the little girl, but rather confusedl}'. 

Hoop la ! Hurrah ! Now here, now there ! How it 
flies ! It almost keeps regular time ! . . . . Whew ! . . . . the 
gentleman has let the ball whistle past him. Ha, ha, how 
she laughs at him ! 

Harald runs after the rolling ball, catches and wipes 
it sa3’ing at the same time ; “ There will be nobod}’ else 
at dinner? .... Catch ! ” 

Trudel is not able to repl}’ immediately ; she has first 
to catch her partner’s rather badly thrown ball with open 
ai-ms. Then she says in broken sentences, while the jewel 
from India is tossed back and forth between them. . . .“I 
think not at most, that as Oh, don’t throw so 


30 


trudel’s ball. 


crooked! What? Well, Cousin Gudeke may come 

perhaps, as usual .... And perhaps not .... He has been 
staying. . . .awa}' lateljL” 

“ I hope he will today too ! " said Harald, and then 
they play on in silence, with panting breath. 

Just then the garden gate creaked on its hinges. 
Trudel gave her ball an extra high toss and could not help 
laughing: “ There he comes now I ” she exclaimed. “Speak 
of an angel and 3’ou hear its Avings.” 

These words affected her partner like a stroke of 
paralysis in his limbs. He turned his head half around 
and saw Cousin Gudeke striding up the gravel path with 
measured tread and very solemn mien, looking like the 
statue of the commander, in “Don Giovanni ”.... and at 
this l)enumbing sight he allowed the ball Avhich had been 
thrown with extra energy, to whistle past him far along the 
lawn, and did not think at once of running after it. 

But another creature did think of this, one that could 
run better than Harald and Trudel together — not to men- 
tion the dignified, portly Gudeke. And this was Metta, 
the presumptuous animal, whose eagerness and impatience 
had been accumulating for altogether too long a time, 
waiting outside the fence, and as Cousin Gudeke’s gener- 
ous proportions had left room enough for ten greyhounds 
around him in opening the gate, she tore like mad across 
the gravel and lawn in pursuit of the flying ball, tumbling 
down in her haste, turning one somersault after another, 
picking herself up again in a flash, darting forward, plung- 
ing her nose into the grass and at the last bound, when the 
ball bounded up barely’ the width of one’s hand above the 
ground, the creature seized it in her long snapping jaws, 
and then lay down upon the lawn, gnawing and crunching, 
her wicked head thrown back on her shoulders. 

The child screamed, Harald gi’asped the fatal state of 


trudel’s ball. 


31 


affairs, ran to the swift-footed robber, struck her several 
resounding blows with his palm on the flanks and rescued 
from the sharp teeth with some difficulty the treasui’e of 
his so recentl^^-won little friend. 

Too late ! 

Harald wiped the ball first in the grass, and then took 
his own handkerchief to rub it quite clean. It still looked 
rather moist and chewed up, but j'et not utterly unaccepb 
able — on one side, that is, for as Trudel received it from 
her partner’s hands and turned it round and round, her 
anguish overcame her, and she burst into loud sobbing. 
She was shaken with her paroxysm of weeping. And with 
good cause . . . for alas ! . . . . the most beautiful of balls was 
ruined ! There was a hole in it, so large you could have 
put your two fingers into it ! 

The inward hollowness of all earthlj" pleasures gaped 
forth from that hole for the first time at the half-grown 
little creature wffio was shedding such inconsolable tears. 

Ugl}' damp pasteboard and straggling sea weed met 
Trudel’s gaze. Was it really in that land of mysteiy 
on the shores of the Ganges, that 3'ou were enclosed in 
such a lovely- case? How maiy' comforting illusions did 
this one mark of a dog’s tooth destro}' in that budding 
little heart ! 

Trudel was beside herself, she wept and sobbed, and 
clasped her ruined ball in her hands, but kept it away 
from her e3’es — the sight was too dreadful. 

That abominable animal ! That abominable man ! 
How. can he keep on talking so ! Any one can see tliat he 
has no heart in the matter, no consciousness of his guilt, 
and his thoughts must certainly be wandering somewhere. 
He thinks, it might have been worse. . . .Indeed?. . . .the 

ball can do good service 3’et What, pray? The Lord 

forbid ! And besides he will , bring another ball to 


32 


truhel's ball. 


Trudel in a day or so, such a ball as she has never seen, a 
far more beautiful ball than this one. 

Brainless mocker ! A more beautiful ball than this 

one ! As if the world had ever seen a more beautiful 

one and as if the equal to it were to be found under the 
sun ! You fool, who do not know the human heart, by 
which alone the value of one’s possessions is estimated ! 
There was only One Ball on this earth that was truly 
desirable, and that was Trudel's Ball, and now there is 
none other ! Not a single one ! Don’t you understand 
this? Cousin Criideke gave it to her, and you, you wretch, 
with the help of your beast, could only destroy it ! Glo 
awa}' and do not speak of another to take its place. It is 
gone for ever ! 

Trudel sat down beside the table on which the em- 
broidery basket was still standing, holding her damaged 
darling in her clasped hands, her hands in her lap. The 
tears ran slowly down her cheeks, and from time to time, 
her chest and chin moved convulsively as a sob forced its 
wa}*^ out. 

Cousin (xudeke was sitting in an arbor at some little 
distance, heedless of these momentous occurrences, his im- 
placable back turned upon his rival, to whose salutation 
he had replied in a barely perceptible manner, giving it 
besides to be most distinctly understood, hy an extensive 
newspaper, in the reading of which his whole being seemed 
to be entirely absorbed, that he was by no means hanker- 
ing after a conversation with Mr. Harald. 

The latter, however, was far more engrossed in the 
contemplation of the cousin who was reading than of the 
weeping child, whose grief he was utterl}' unable to fathom, 
as his heart and mind were so excited by other wishes and 
thoughts. He was picturing in his mind how uncomfort- 
able for the adored lady, how unfavorable for himself, the 


trudel’s ball. 


33 


dinner would turn out, with this cross, coarsely jealous 
old manufacturer embittering eveiy mood, and how this 
Gudeke would not leave the side of the lady to whom he 
was paying his court, until his rival, for propriety’s sake, 
would have to take leave also. So toda}' again there would 
be no possibility of allowing his eloquent mouth to overflow 
with what his heart was so full ! Oh, how right Trudel’s 
mother had been, when she suggested to him to write ! 
How fortunate it was too that he had not thrown away this 
letter also, but — and he felt for it with his hand — was car- 
rying it over his heart in his coahpocket. 

But how to have it reach her? .... He did not want to 
staj" and serve as a foil to this Gudeke. In such a case 
the one present would be in the wrong, and the one tempo- 
rarily crowded out be rewarded with longing remembrance. 
Send the letter b}’ mail? It was almost too late for this, 
and his aversion to stamps and postmarks on a love-letter 
had not decreased in the least — The servants?. .. .They 
were doubtless bribed by the old friend of the family. 

Just then his glance fell on Trudel sitting there so 

quietly .... his latest, best little friend ! To be sure ! 

A resolution that illumined his mind like a lightning-flash ; 
an inspiration that warmed his heart with a delicious con- 
fidence. No sooner thought than done ! 

“ Trudel mine ! ” A shudder passed over the child 
from head to foot as she became aware of the voice of the 
offender. He hardly noticed the movement and had no 
means of interpreting her frame of mind. And so he re- 
sumed in a low tone but with urgent entreaty : 

“ Listen, 1113' child. I do not care to dine with Cousin 
Gudeke. I do not like him.” 

And I know win*, well enough ! the child thought to 
herself, her hatred making her see more clearl}*. 

Her companion continued : “ I believe too, that it 


34 


trudel’s ball. 


would not be pleasant for Mamma. But Mamma is ex- 
pecting a letter from me. . . . ” 

God forbid ! Trudel mentally ejaculated at the same 

time. 

Harald gazed across at the gentleman reading in the 
arbor, w'ho was gradually growing somewhat restless at the 
sudden interruption to the game that had been in full 
swing at his entrance, and was turning his head first to one 
side and then to the other, as stiff as an old pigeon. Did 
he not look as if he were going to stand up? .... There was 
danger in delay ! 

“Here, Trudel, take this here in your hand. You are 
my nice little friend, aren't you? And Cousin Gudeke need 
not know anything about it. Take this and give it to your 
Mamma ! We’ll stand b}’ each other loyally through life ! 
.... Dear child ! . . . . And you shall have a ball .... such a 
ball. . . !” 

Harald was delighted with his idea. When her own 
child lays her suitor’s hearbfelt proposal in her hands, 
what a beautiful sj'mbol, what a magic intercession, w^hat 
a delicate assurance of never-to-be-disturbed memories and 
blissful anticipations ! 

He saw in imagination how the scene would take 
place, almost without words, yet not without some tears 
of emotion. Cousin Gudeke ill-humoredly devouring his 
meal by her side as usual, could not compete with a 
w'ooing so ingeniously conceived and so skillfully carried 
out. 

Sentimental fancies that played another mischievous 
trick upon their friend ! 

“ Will you? ” he asked the child, pressing her hands, 
and inside her hands, his letter. 

Trudel nodded her head violently twice in succession. 
The gentleman accepted it as a vehement consent and re- 


trudel’s ball. 


35 


assuring promise. Trudel, however, had only nodded thus 
as she was shaken by sobs, and would never, never have 
agreed that she had meant to repl}’ in the affirmative to 
his question. She was so absorbed in her grief that she 
did not even hear coiTectly what the man was talking 
about, neither did she know what she was to do wuth that 
piece of paper. She onl}^ knew that her lovely ball was 
spoiled, and it was all Harald’s fault, and when she finally 
raised her eyes involuntarily and saw the detested man 
standing before her, she w’as capable of but one thought ; 
No, most certainly not you ! Rather the othei’, clearing 
his throat over yonder ! 

“ I will come back this evening ! . . . . And G-od bless 
3’ou, dear child ! ” 

Did he actually dare to touch her hair with his lips ! 
She rubbed her hair with the back of her right hand, in 
which she was also holding the paper, as if she could brush 
off the trace of his kiss, and pressed her left hand contain- 
ing the ball, to her heart. 

There he goes, the miserable wretch, with the mouse- 
colored iMetta, that horrid, mean beast, her ears and tail 
drooping, sneaking noiselessly along at his heels. The 
gate closed with a crash. Good b3e, and ma3" I never 
catch sight of either of you again ! 

His steps sounded on the street. Trudel listened to 
them and then commenced sobbing violenth’ again, worse 
even than before. 

“What are 3'ou ciying about so hard?” Cousin 
Gudeke inquired, and as she glanced up, she saw him 
standing close in front of her. “ What was it that hap- 
pened to disturb 3'our game? ” 

“That horrid dog. . .chewed up. . .my lovely ball 

....oh, oh, oh!” gasped the little maiden between her 
tears. 


86 


TRL'DKL’S BALL. 


“ Indeed?” Giideke careless!}' rejoined, i-evolting in 
his lack of feeling, and without any idea of the significance 
of this hour for him. But by no means without suspicion 
of his rival, he asked further : 

“And what have you there in your hand? ’’ 

“Just the ball ! ” said Trudel curtly and decidedly. 

“Indeed?” was all that Gudeke replied. He felt im- 
pelled to turn his head toward the street, as he became 
aware of some noise out thei’e. It was not Harald Richter 
returning, howcA'er, but an expressman driving past. 

Trudel took advantage of the moment before Gudeke 
turned his head back again, to stuff the paper that Harald 
had given her, into the ball that his dog had spoiled, hid- 
ing her hands as well as their contents under the table and 
between her knees. She was still employed in this precau- 
tionary task, when Gudeke turned around again and spoke 
to her. She did not hear a word that he said. She was 
entirely engrossed in the work of her hands. Possibly he 
may have said something about the man who had just 
gone .... and that he never could abide dogs, especially, 
mischievous dogs .... but that he was very fond of chil- 
dren, especially, nice children ! 

Trudel replied with a yes or a no, just as it came to 
her tongue, and kept on boring and stuffing, until the let- 
ter was entirely swallowed up among the sea weeds and 
pasteboard of her once so wonderful ball. 

“ Show me your poor ball ! Perhaps we can cure the 
dog’s bite,” said her cousin, stretching out his hand. 

The girl gazed at his hands and face with eyes and 
mouth wide open. “I’ll tell you what, Cousin Gudeke,” 
she said then in a dry and altogether different voice, “I 
will try to mend it myself.” 

“Do so!” said Gudeke, calmly, and as he saw that 
she was going to work resolutely, he took up his news- 


trudel's bale. 


37 


paper again, sat down beside her and resumed his reading. 

Trudel held her ball in her left hand and rummaged 
with her right in the profusion of the maternal embroidery 
basket. How nice it was, that a few hours ago, she had 
selected all that was necessaiy to make a new coat for 
her plaything, when she had been less excited. There the 
bright-colored skeins were still lying in delicate shades be- 
side each other. She had only to pick them up — and so 
she pulled and tied knots, w'ove and emljroidered another 
dress outside of the old one, taking particular pains to 
cover with great precaution the rent made by the dog’s 
tooth. Even then the spot still remained a trifle flat and 
angular. But not a hole, not even the trace of a hole was 
to be discovered. Trudel was a rare little artist and the 
numerous threads wound in and out, and covered each 
other so daintily and skillfully that the work did honor to 
the little workwoman, even when one knew nothing of the 
fact that these glistening threads concealed a sweet secret, 
and that Trudel’s ball was now nothing but the brilliant- 
hued grave of an unrevealed love. 

“Your dear Mamma is staying out a long while 
today ! ” Cousin Gudeke observed as he moved his Im-k in 
tlie reclining chair, until it creaked, smoothing the paper 
with a couple of fingers to fold a crease so that he could 
read more convenientl3’. He did not look at the child at 
all as he said this, and his attitude, as w'ell as the tone of 
his voice was as tranquil as if he were already' the master 
of the liouse, and were freeing his mind before dinner b\' 
some observations in regard to the unpunctuality of his 
better half. 

Trudel lifted her little nose high in the air, like a little 
hare among the cabbages, which, disturbed in its rapid 
work I)}’ some noise, listens and snifls the air for a moment, 
and then ducks dowm again and works on. 


38 


TRUDEL’S BALL. 


But she had reallj' nothing more to do with her skeins. 
The ball as the result of her various artistic endeavors had 
come out with its second coat charmingl}' thick and nearl}' 
round. Nevertheless she thought that the work which had 
kept her so breathlessly employed, and had really consoled 
her a little, could not be concluded 3'et. It needed — so 
her feelings told her — some last finishing touch. And 
Gudeke’s words had only this meaning to her : Take ad- 
vantage of the time you still have, and weave in your 
secret so completely that no human being ever taking the 
ball into his hand would happen upon the idea of examin- 
ing its inside. 

And with all the haste and all the zeal with which an 
industrious soul takes hold of an uncompleted work for the 
last time, Trudel turned the battered veteran of her pleas- 
ures around before her searching eyes, and, seizing a 
crochet needle that just then winked encouragingl}' at her 
from her mother’s basket, and a small ball of cardinal silk, 
crocheted around the entire ball a closely-fitting network 
with small stitches, in which not even a practiced eye could 
detect either beginning or end. And this fitted the stout 
ball like a tight, seamless jacket, or a skin grown on it, 
which could never be removed unless one were willing to 
destroy the whole completel}’. 

Cousin Gudeke had had frequent opportunity in the 
meanwhile to express his astonishment at the remarkable 
lack of punctualit}' in the mistress of the mansion, who 
must have lost all desire to eat, in her shopping and her 
inquiries after the fashions, and insensible to the sufferings 
of others, was bringing her guest as well as her cook to 
the verge of despair. Trudel made no reply no matter how 
often Cousin Gudeke — by this time with his watch coii- 
stantl}' in his hand — discussed the protracted absence of 
her honored Mamma. She kept on crocheting without stir- 


trudel’s ball. 


39 


ring, without even looking up a single time, and in fact 
without even allowing herself a long breath. The news- 
paper Avith all its supplements had been read from top to 
l)ottom long ago, down to the veiy last advertisement. 
The impatient cousin was pacing the graveled walk to and 
fro between the maple tree and the gate, his hands clasped 
behind him, with rather a grim air. What an unsystematic 
way of keeping house in a widow’s establishment like this ! 
Could such unpunctual meals agree with the health of the 
delicate child who has been growing so hist ! Really if 
there had not been something else to consider besides the 
well-known plate of soup and the three courses of plain 
domestic fare this afternoon, Gudeke would certainly 
have earned his grumbling stomach long ago to the Club. 
But he deemed it best to remain at his post. Who would 
guarantee that as soon as Gudeke had turned the corner. 
Harald Richter might not return to the garden. And Avho 
knows what might happen then ! 

Whether the dilatoiy widow was privately wishing for 
this change of scene, ma}' be left in doubt. Certain it is 
that she delayed her homeward drive in the half instinct- 
ive, half confessed intention of increasing the possibilit}’ 
of receiving a letter from Harald before dinner. 

An inquiry after the letters that had arrived was there- 
fore the first she addressed to those avIio came to meet her, 
when her foot had but just touched the carriage-step. 

Trudel, contrary to all training and custom, was not 
among those who came to meet her. She Avas still sitting 
there under the tree, like a crocheting automaton, with the 
quivering hook in her busy hand and did not glance up 
from her AA’ork. Only a few minutes more and her task 
AA^ould be completed ! But just these last stitches requii-ed 
care and attention, if they Avere to result as the young 


40 


TRr del's ball. 


needlewoman had decided. Only a few minutes more — 
but undisturbed and unabridged ! 

“Gertrude !” cried Mamma, almost standing still, the 
picture of surprise and indignation. 

‘•‘Mats, mademoiselle Gertrude! ... .depechez vous done 
. . . .e'est madame qui nous arrive!" piped her governess, 
tripping a few steps nearer. 

But Mademoiselle Gertrude did not choose to budge. 
.... Only ten seconds more ! Then w’hatever you like ! 

Tn the meanwhile Gotthold, her intelligent servant, 
had brought from the house in the greatest haste all the 
letters that had arrived during the absence of his mistress, 
and handed them to the impatient lady wdiile she was still 
in the garden. 

She stopped and under Cousin Gudeke's burning, in- 
quisitive gaze, with changing color, took up leisurel}’ one 
by one w'hat w'as ofi'ered her on the silver salver. 

“ Gerson Bros.” “ Bouwitt and Littauer ” “ Mo- 

diste-coiffeur, Petrus”. . . .the names of the firms printed 
in the corner were sufficient to show that these letters did 
not require opening immediatel3’. Bills, advertising circu- 
lars .... nothing for her heart ! Nothing from Ilarald ! 
Disgraceful ! . . . . But Trudel had finished ! 

The child sprang to her feet and ran at last toward 
the new-comer. She had to run but a few steps ■when she 
stood before her mother’s face, and this boded no good to 
her. Trudel appeared exact!}' at the wrong moment before 
the lady w’ho w'as actuall}’^ beside herself w'ith her secret 
disappointment and indignation. 

“You are learning to take things easy ! . . . .You hur- 
ried veiy fast to meet 3'our Mamma ! ” cried the angrv 
lady, and turning to the FrenchAvoman, who was sighing 
and shaking her head, she continued : “ Things can not 
go on this way ! You can not oonti'ol this heartless little 


TUI'DKL’s ball. 


41 


rebel. . . .3'ou can’t. . . .neither can I. . . . ! ” were her last 
words lost in a sigh, — a sigh of such depth and duration 
that compared with the punj- groans of the governess, it 
was like a cannon shot to the rattling of small firearms. 

“ What have 3’ou been doing while I have been 
gone? ” 

“I have been plaving ball.” 

“ The whole time? ” 

“Xo, I have been doing some fancy work.” 

“Doing fanc3' work? You? .... And what then? ” 

“Crocheting something,” Trudel replied, already ver3’- 
much dejected. 

“ Something? .... And what? ” 

“ This ! ” 

And she held out her masterpiece toward her mother, 
with a trembling hand and a beating heart. 

The lad3' took it, turned it over and over, and did not 
know what to make of the half round, half knobb3", per- 
fectl3’ useless thing with no shape at all, on whose decora- 
tion her wild little daughter had wasted her choicest 
worsteds and silks. 

“What do 3'Ou mean by such idleness?” she ex- 
claimed, throwing the lump that had formerl3’ been Trudel’s 
l)all contemptu()usl3’ into the grass. 

“What else? ” she asked then, and her hands trembled 
convulsivel3'. “Nothing else ! ” Trudel answered, feeling 
the tears start to her eyes at the treatment bestowed 
upon the work of her hands. But it was not this feeling 
alone that impelled her to answer her mother in a tone 
which the latter “once for all could not stand,” and with 
a defiant air besides, which b3’ itself always seemed to 
her mother to deseiwe punishment. Little Gertrude was 
pining for some punishment. Little as she liked a whip- 
ping, this once she wanted to be whipped and well whipped 


42 


TRL'DEL’s ball. 


too — for she felt the need of doing penance for her otfense, 
and was willing to take at least a severe punishment for a 
sin which she would neither have left undone nor con- 
fessed for anj^ price — not even confessed to herself. 

Her wish was realized. 

When her mother saw how relentlessly her embroidery 
basket had been plundered, and for what a purpose ! — she 
could restrain herself no longer, her patience gave out, and 
she w'anted to show the naught}’ child that even a woman 
can administer punishment if needs must be. Unfortu- 
nately Cousin Gudeke immediately interposed, and the 
more zealously, the more it seemed to him in the clear- 
sightedness of jealousy, that the whipping which his little 
protegee was receiving, was really intended for another 
person to wdiom he did not at all begrudge this mark of 
distinction. 

After this outburst of extreme indignation, after so 
much excessive agitation and again and again disappointed 
expectation, the poor widow began to feel so disconsolate 
that she realized the weakness of her lovely body and the 
lack of a support in her lonely condition, as never before. 

She expressed this sentiment S3’mbolicall3’ by falling 
down in a fainting fit, or rather she w’ould have fallen, if 
Cousin Gudeke had not — also with a profound symbolic 
meaning in his action — caught her at the right moment in 
his strong arms. As he thus with some excuse clasped 
his fair burden to his heart, not only did the sweet thought 
come into his mind that the lady would indeed make a 
most desirable little wife, but he combined wdth this the 
l)ractical shrewdness to perceive that such disagreeable 
disturbances Avould not occur in an existence otherwise so 
charmingl}’ comfortable, if the hours for the principal 
meals were regularly observed by the household. And as 
he felt himself enough of a man to bring at least this 


trvdel’s ball. 


43 


reform to pass with an iron hand, and thus actuallj' save 
the lives of the family bequeathed to his charge by his de- 
ceased friend, the softened widow had hardly opened her 
e3-es again, when he renewed his wooing, intelligent!}^ al- 
though cautiousl}’, at the point where he had been inter- 
rupted the daj^ before by that confounded marplot of a 
Richter. 

The lad}' looked as pensive as she w^as charming 
during this well-meant address, and would certainly have 
kept this lovely expression a while longer on her counte- 
nance, if her glance had not fallen upon Trudel who was 
striving to approach her. 

Did she want to entreat her mother? Did she want 
to beg a severer punishment or her mother's forgiveness, 
or only protest against Gudeke’s suit? This no one ever 
learned — for Mamma cut her short at once and bade her 
go out of her sight. Trudel was also ordered not to dine 
that day at the family table, but to eat her meagre meal 
as a naughty girl in the tiresome society of her cross 
governess. 

“But, Mamma — ” 

None of that; a Mamma aroused to such indignation 
would not allow any buts. However she allowed Gudeke 
to offer her his arm into the dining room — that kind 
Gudeke, “ who after all had tenderer and more loyal inten- 
tions toward her than any other human being on earth.” 

The tender and loyal cousin gave a feeling sigh when 
at last dinner was mentioned. And so they w^ent off. 

Trudel ate her dinner in tears. The Frenchwoman 
only sighed now and then over these sad events and 
this character. The other couple at the table were on this 
account only the more conversationally inclined, and be- 
came at last more cheerful again. Only Gotthold, the 
footman, thought that he obseiwed his gracious lady look- 


44 


trudel’s ball. 


* ing around almost coustantl}' at the clock and never had 
she inquired so often about the letter carrier as during this 
da3^’s dinner. 

The letter carrier did not come again, but in the course 
of the evening Mr. Harald Richter came — that is, as far 
as the door, farther than this he did not get. The fair 
proprietress of this beautiful house and the beautiful heart 
considered it shocking be3'Oud all measure, that “this 
3'oung man” — he was alread3' degraded far below her dig- 
nit3' as a woman, to the rank of “3’oung man” — had not 
put so much earnestness into his love as to comprehend 
her justifiable wish, and cast himself at her feet with fet- 
tered hands and a letter. If he came in person it was cer- 
tain I3' onl3’ for the purpose of sa3 ing sweet things to her 
again as before, which bound him to nothing, and would 
not dignif3' his flirtation with an offer of marriage. What 
was the use of wasting an3’ more of the precious time of 
which a widow — “almost thirt3’” — has not a single da3’ 
more to lose. 

jMadame was veiy soriT, but she w'as too exhausted 
after such a fatiguing da3' to receive an3’ callers. The 
honest old servant and the stupefied “3-oung man,” looked 
at each other ver3' dubioush’ at this fib ; then Harald left 
in silence. 

“So that is the reph' to m3^ letter,” said the good fel- 
low to himself. “I meant m3' proposal in all tender- 
ness, but she has interpreted it w'rongl3'. It does not 
surprise me, however ; I knew’ well enough that I had no 
luck in writing.” 

After dinner Trudel had to listen to a long lecture 
and learn a still longer lesson about the Il3'ksos d3’nasties, 
both in French. After getting through with both of these, 
she felt compelled to go out once more into the dark gar- 
den. She thought a few breaths of fresh air would do her 


trudel’s ball. 


45 


good after her long sobbing fit, and besides she had gi’own 
hot all over while she was writing, at the idea that her ball 
was still lying outdoors in the grass. What if some one 
should find it and want to know how it looked inside ! 
What if Harald Richter were to find it ! * 

She searched for a long while up and dowm the lawn 
in the dark, until finally she grazed it with her foot in the 
grass. It was quite damp with dew when she picked it 
up, and a shudder passed over her whole frame as she felt 
it in her hand. 

At the same moment she heard her name called softl}- 
from the street. She looked around and saw a dark form 
outside the gate, and as she recognized the gentleman in 
the street, she just turned and ran in the opposite direc- 
tion, darted into the house and crept into her bed where 
the coverings were the thickest. 

Outside in the dark street stood Harald Richter, 
whom the undeserved cruelty of his adored one kept driv- 
ing around and about the little house and the large 
grounds, with a dizzy brain and burning heart. 

“Let the child go,” said a voice unexpectedly from 
the shrubbery, speaking to the gentleman in the street, 
and the governess who had followed the wild little creature 
into the garden to watch her unobserved, stepped on the 
gravel of the path. “ Let the child go, sir ; she has been 
punished severely enough already this afternoon .... not 
by me, God forbid ! — no, but b}’ her own mother's hand. 
And she hurts alwa3-s, even when she punishes ever so 
lightl}r. . . .The poor child. . . .but what will 5’ou, when a 
ladj- is on the point of . . . . ” 

Harald Richter was lacking in the politeness requisite 
to listen to the end of the governess’ communications. He 
felt disgraced before this strange woman, and not only be- 
fore her, before these trees, this lawn, this garden hedge. 


46 


trudel’s ball. 


before half Charlottenburg and all Berlin, and most of all 
before himself, and he set out and ran, as if he could run 
away from himself, or at any rate from the silly ideas 
.which he now for the second time, but now for ever, cast 
far away from him. 

The next morning Trudel was summoned to her 
mother and received again into favor, indeed into such 
an abundance of favor as had not been vouchsafed to her 
before for a long, long* time. At the same time she was 
informed that the evening before, while her dear little 
daughter was sleeping, Mamma had, after mature delibera- 
tion as to what would be for the latter’s benefit, and her 
best training and progress in all that pertained to her posi- 
tion in life, decided to marry a second time, and had be- 
come engaged to Cousin Gudeke. 

Trudel first looked at her mother with eyes opened to 
their Avidest extent, as if it were entirelj’ beyond her to 
understand what she had aided — and that not so entirelj" 
unconsciousl}' — in bringing about, and as she could not 
collect her thoughts Avhich Avould have helped her to put 
two and two together regarding what she had just heard, 
she began to crj’ and let her tears fall as they came. 

jMamma cried too, and the longer her weeping con- 
tinued the more violent it became. As they mingled their 
profuse tears thus on each other’s hearts, the question sud- 
denly occurred to naughty little Trudel, what her IMamma 
was crying for, whether it was from sorrow or happiness. 
And as she could not succeed in deciding this question 
clearly, she noticed all at once that she herself had no 
more tears to shed. 

Cousin Gudeke made his appearance this day at lunch 
time »and was well received. Trudel’s disgust grew at 
the sight of him. She found it impossible to under- 
stand how iMamma could have given the prefei’ence to this 


TRUDEL’S BALL. 


47 


suitor, and, too late, she acknowledged to herself that if 
she were to have any stepfather at all, Harald Richter 
would have been far nicer. 

And what had become of Mm? Of course he will 
never come back to play ball again ! Alas, to play with 
what ball? Trudel’s ball refused to bounce any more. It 
was no longer good for an3’thing, and sadl}', without an}^ 
consolation or any means of passing awaj' the time, the 
child crept around the grounds, where onl^' j-esterda}* she 
had frolicked so gaih^ and happil}'. 

All the while Trudel kept her hand constantly in her 
pocket and the dreadful ball in her hand. It actuallj' 
burnt her fingers, and 3'et she could not let go of it. What 
if she should run into the house, and tell her mother ever^'- 
thing. . .or Cousin Gudeke. . .or. . .Eveiy idea and thought 
seemed to her utterly sill}’. It seemed to her as if a 
dizziness kept her whirling around in a circle. She grew 
wretched and sick at heart. And that bewitched play thing 
alone was to blame for it all. She wanted to get rid of it 
at an}’ price. She had already started to fling it*out over 
the hedge into the dusty street — but what if somebody 
should find it and open it ! No, the Lord forbid ! If only 
some little stream of water had been flowing past the 
house, Trudel would have known right away what she 
would have tossed into it at once ; — but the river ran ’way 
over yonder, behind all sorts of streets and buildings, and 
she was not allowed to go out of the grounds alone. Burn 
it? — worsted, silk, tow and sea weed? — This could not be 
done very well without being apparent to all the noses in 
the house. Bury it? — If she did this the gardener at least 
would notice her, and as soon as the child had turned her 
l)ack, would dig it up again. 

But she must get rid of the thing that was forever 
crying out from her pocket to her conscience, that she had 


48 


TKUDEI/S BALL. 


clone a wicked deed and should never again have anv 
peace from her anxiety and consciousness of guilt. 

Just then it occurred to her that ’way up under the 
roof in the attic, and old, old chest was standing under the 
rafters in the corner, in which all sorts of broken bric-a- 
brac, worn out pla^dhings, old-fashioned wax flowers, orna- 
ments and other rubbish had accumulated, and which no 
hand had touched within the memory of man, except that 
of the prying little Gertrude Avho in her hours of recrea- 
tion crept around the house like a cat and stuck her little 
nose into everything. 

In this sarcophagus the corpse of her ball, which she 
had decorated with such pains only the daj- before, would 
lie in peace, until an opportunity arrived to toss it into 
some running stream, some smoking charcoal-kiln or any 
other abj'ss, perhaps, during some walk into the country. 
She never wanted to touch it again to pla}’ with it. 

Trudel ran up stairs and crawled around under the 
roof until in a hidden corner of the attic she found the 
trunk that had remained in her memory from her earliest 
days. The dust flew up and a musty odor greeted her 
nose as she opened the lid. AVhat a mess of rubbish lay 
piled up in there together ! An uncanny and old-fashioned 
lot ! In with you, you horrid thing, that was once Trudel’s 
ball, down Avith the lid and lock it up ! 

The key had not been turned for a long time. It hurt 
the little maiden’s fingers, but soon it was locked, and the 
crooked keA' torn out from the rusty lock and carried awa}' 
by Trudel down stairs, out into the garden .... and Avhat 
then? ... .there ! it is already fljung over the hedge into 
the next lot. 

Nobody liA'ed over there. 2V vacant building lot in 
which briars, thistles and weeds were groAving luxuriantly. 
It might lie there a long, long Avhile, until the grass should 


trudel’s ball. 


49 


grow over it and over this story. Trudel had got rid of it, 
and had got rid of her ball and with it all the cares and 
worries that clung to it. 

But she kept Cousin Gudeke, and he kept her lady 
Mamma. And hardly had a month passed awa}' in the 
country when the}" all moved out together, and closed up 
all the blinds and doors to the country house in which 
they had dwelt so long, where Trudel had been born long 
ago and so nicely brought up, and they all took a lovely 
journey and finally returned, but to Berlin, the capital, not 
to the suburb of Charlottenburg, to which they never drove 
out except for a visit on holidays, when there' was some- 
thing especial to see or to celebrate at the factory. 

Whether Mamma had been very happy with Cousin 
Gudeke or not, Trudel did not venture to reply to this 
question. The cousin-father blossomed on luxuriantly and 
serenely satisfied in his old habits and a few new ones, 
which he had assumed, feeling that he was justified in 
doing so. The lady who had lately become his wife lived 
on in very much the same way as before. She sighed and 
complained, had her fits of temper and her headaches and 
occasionally even tears — no more than before, but not any 
less either. 

Thus many things had turned out for some people 
otherwise than one would have supposed, but in one point 
Trudel had not been mistaken. To introduce energy and 
strict discipline into the household and especially into her 
training, for this the kind-hearted Gudeke was little ad- 
apted. He only roused up to excitement when the hours 
for meals were not punctually observed, and was the most 
placid, contented creature in the world, as long as one did 
not interfere with his comfort and left the good soul in 
peace. To train up a stubborn child correctly, — one that 
was cot even his own, — such an idea could never enter his 


50 


trudel’s ball. 


head, and so he allowed whatever would not grow straight 
to grow crooked, and did not break what would not bend. 

Trudel needed diflferent government ; even she herself 
felt this. Neither did her mother close her ej’es to this 
view of the matter, and Papa Gudeke was invariabl}’ of the 
same opinion as his wife. 

And so the married pair sat together mau}^ a time and 
sighed over the wild, obstinate and really unlovable ways 
of their fast-maturing little daughter, and wondered from 
the very depths of their hearts that “the great sacrifice” 
which the mother had made for her education, with as 
much good judgment as self-denial, — in marr3dng a second 
husband, that is, — had not onl}’ produced no good results, 
but had rather aggravated Trudel’s habits and disposition. 

The latter was quite content when she was informed 
one morning that she was to be taken to French Switzer- 
land, to a boarding school. Her mothers house had be- 
come distasteful to her, and the further awaj’ she went the 
better it would suit her. 

She was a little past fifteen, when she was taken to 
Switzerland, and she remained there of her own free will 
more than two j^ears. She was not considered bad tem- 
pered there, but rather wild and melanchol}’. She herself 
used to say afterward, that the time at boarding school 
was the pleasantest in her life. 

She said this with the more frequency, the older she 
grew. But when on her tweut3’-first birthday she re- 
ceived news of the engagement of her 3'oungest school- 
mate, she was forced to acknowledge to herself, that she 
could no longer pin all her affection on that Young Ladies’ 
Seminaiy. 

There had not been an3" lack of gentlemen to woo the 
slender maiden with the large, dark e3’es. Miss Gertrude 
was a wealth3' and well-educated girl, she was pretty and 


trudel’s ball. 


54 

discreet and showed a great deal of taste in the selection 
of her dresses, her books and her friends ; whoever saw 
her on the street praised her exquisite carnage, and who- 
ever knew her more intimately praised her graceful conver- 
sation. But few arrived thus far, for Miss Gertrude 
appeared timid and reserved in superficial intercourse, a 
certain something that might easily be taken for distrust 
or contempt, nipped in the bud many an honest intention 
to become better acquainted with her. People called her 
an embittered charactei-. Some pitied her on account of 
the only too apparent infiuence of her position as a stej)- 
child upon her temper or her character ; others declared 
that she was a supercilious and heartless creature any wa}', 
who had far more than her share of blessings in this 
w’icked w^orld. 

Trudel was herself aware of the fact that she was often 
perverse, but she did not know how to alter or to explain 
this. She loved her mother and was sincerely fond of the 
good-hearted Gudeke. But she could not say this to either 
of them. There w'as a something wdthin her that stified 
every heart-felt word on her lips. She herself did not know 
what it was. In her childhood, an almost unnoticed foolish 
matter, a childish notion, perhaps only a fancy. AVith a 
child’s heedlessness she had at first thought nothing what- 
ever about it. And then all of a sudden it had occurred 
to her in some sad night hour how she had once played 
the part of destiny, and to whom ! And the larger she 
grew, the larger grew the trouble at her heart. If she had 
knelt down and confessed all to her mother, perhaps she 
would then for the first time have made the woman she 
had deceived, really miserable. As it was, her mother at 
least was not aware of the happiness of which she had been 
deprived by her own child. Gertrude had watched over 
the harmony between the married couple, ever since she 


52 


trudkl’s ball. 


had been grown up herself, with as much anxiety and 
attention as if she had been personally responsible for 
every sigh, for eyer}' tear. She would gladly have given 
her life if it could have made Gudeke the first man and the 
best husband in the world, Gudeke, who asked neither this 
gain nor this sacrifice. And in these meditations, this en- 
forced oblivion and this liabitual watchfulness, the best in 
lier that might have secured her own happiness, went to 
waste. 

Her little heart had caught fire more than once, and 
her eyes, still more frequently, had cast a firebrand into 
the heart of some one else, that asked nothing better than 
to bo transferred to a domestic hearth. But gaj' and natu- 
ral as she could be and was — as soon as a gentleman 
approached her more confidentially, she became confused, 
monosyllabic and gloom}’. Old stories, indistinct, gliostl}’, 
distorted, fioated before her eyes, her glance grew absent, 
her words, cold, and not a single one, not even one of those 
whose voice sent her blood coursing faster to her heart, 
could believe that he inspired this strange creature with 
any confidence, or was welcome with his suit that was thus 
accepted. * 

She then generally sighed with relief herself, as if 
some danger had passed b}'. She was of the opinion that 
she knew better than other people what a ridiculous chance 
often can unite and part souls. The mother never under- 
stood her daughter and the latter finally forgot why she 
had become thus, and did not alter in any way, because 
she had so grown into the habit. She kept thinking, in 
fact, that something entirely out of the common would 

still come into her life But nothing at all came 

And what if this something should never, never come? .... 
Poor Trudel ! 

She thought that she had entirely cured herself of the 


trudel’s rall. 


53 


habit of meditating. But on her twenty-first birthday it 
attacked her again, and very roughly and violently, and 
she shed tears — a certain kind of tears that 3’oung ladies 
are mostl}’ in the habit of weeping after the}" have passed 
their thirtieth birthday. 

So many things kept happening to vex her. And be- 
sides.... was it not day before yesterday? Ah, no; it 
was only yesterday afternoon. She had been making a 
formal call with Mamma. As they were about to leave, 
the older ladies had become involved in a new conversa- 
tion. The two gh’ls, Glertrude and the daughter of the 
house, were standing in the meanwhile beside a table in 
front of the sofa, and the heroine of this story was playing 
Avith her gloved fingers among the contents of the alabaster 
receiver in which the calling cards were lying which had 
been left at the house during the season. 

Just then one stuck between her thumb and fore- 
finger. It seemed to have l)een laid there only recently. 
“ Harald Kichter” was written on it in round, handsome 
letters. 

Gertrude thought she felt the blood rushing to her 
cheeks, and without other interest than to prevent any one's 
noticing her amazement, which was unjustifiable even to 
herself, she asked in a low voice: ‘-Ah, and is he here 
again? ” 

*‘Yes indeed!” her friend replied. “l)o you know 
him? ” 

“Not really.” 

“lie is simply heavenly I ” 

Trudel smiled compassionately at such enthusiasm, 
and glanced sharply at her friend. “Is he married?” she 
inquired further. 

“ Oh, by no means ! ” the young lady exclaimed, and 


54 


trudel’s ball. 


now it was her turn to blush. Gertrude smiled again and 
then both were silent for a while until her friend remarked : 

“It seems to me he used to visit at 3'our house when 
3’ou were a child, did he not? ” 

“ May be so • • • • I believe .... Mamma is really going 
now. . . . Good bye, m3' dear. . . . Adieu ! ” 

In the excitement of the abrupt leave-taking Gertrude, 
oddl3' enough, had retained the card in her hand. And the 
tightl3'-clenched hand did not open until the girl was stand- 
ing entirely' alone in her own room, and dreaming away' to 
herself in front of her mirror, without having removed her 
hat, wrap or gloves. At last she read the card again 
and repeated the gentleman’s name in a low tone to herself 
“What does he go to see her for? ” she said, shrugging 
her shoulders. “He will never leave a card here. He 
will never cross our threshold.” 

She threw herself, just as she was, down on the sofa, 
crushing her new hat, and began to cry, until her new 
gloves were all wet. “Only' from silly' nervousness.” as 
she said to herself reassuringly'. 

She then dried her tears, bent her hat into shape, 
wiped her beautiful eyes, took a pair of fresh gloves and 
went down stairs to ask ^lamina if she could not have the 
carriage. Her head ached and she would like to enjoys the 
fresh air another hour before dinner. Mamma seldom re- 
fused any^ of her daughter's wishes, and this time cei’tainly' 
not. As the driver was about to turn into the avenue on 
which they usually' took their drives, the y'oung lady' — 
absent-mindedly— called out to him: “Drive toward the 
Villa ! ” 

The driver and the horses wondered over the unaccus- 
tomed expedition. For a long, long time neither the lady' 
nor the daughter of the house had had any' errands out 
that way'. In summer-time the villa was usually' rented 


trudel’s ball. 


55 


and in winter-time no one thought of driving out there. 
Gertrude was surprised herself at the direction she had 
mentioned. What did she want out there? Nothing, but 
to see again the old place, the dear garden wlieie she had 
grown up, where she had played, dreamed and built castles 
in the air, ah, such foolish little castles in the air. She 
wanted to imagine herself a child again for a few minutes — 
she might surely be allowed this toda}', on her twenty-first 
birthda}'. 

She drove up, alighted, ran into the garden and sat 
down without further ceremony on the rustic seat under 
the maple tree. She had a strange feeling, such as she 
had never before experienced in all her life. She listened 
as if some one were calling her. . . .who?. . . .her fate? 
chance? her own heart? 

She did not know who or what it was ; she did not 
want to know anything, but simply to sit here a while and 
be still. 

U'hat a pity that the charming spot was not inhab- 
ited ! The gardener who had charge of the house came up 
and greeted her. He laid a pretty bouquet down before 
the 3’oung lady and after receiving her thanks, departed, 
not wishing to intrude. 

How tall the trees had grown and how silent it was 
out here, although the villa stood no longer in solitude 
between the country and the park, but had long lines of 
streets extending around it in all directions. But the 
thrushes were singing and the sparrows chirping just as of 
old. The wind was sporting in the trees and smoke was 
rising from the chimneys of the next house. Now and 
then some gentleman on horseback would come into view 
from behind the shrubbery who, having galloped down the 
long avenue was now walking his horse and striking into 
some other road back* to the city or to Grunewald. 


5 G 


trudel’s ball. 


Grertnule sat there, with clasped hands, listening to 
the rustling of the leaves, to the soughing of the wind, to 
the song of the birds and the beat of the horses’ hoofs, and 
felt as happ3’, as if there were really a breath from the 
past in it all, and as if her childhood were greeting her 
with a promise that a new life was awaiting her in the lap 
of the future. 

Unfortunately there is always somebody on hand to 
interrupt us, when we are happy in our own thoughts. 
The driver ventured the dutiful suggestion that Papa 
(Srudeke insisted upon punctuality at meal-times and that 
it was therefore high time to drive home again. 

Trudel rose to her feet with a little sigh and a long 
glance around the house aud grounds. Just then she saw 
to her right above the gate, over which now towered the 
box-hedge, grown tall in all these years, the head of a man 
and the head of a horse, the e3’es of both attentive!}' con- 
templating her, especially those of the former. 

The young lady stopped involuntaril}'. She felt a 
pain in her left side, quite a sharp pain, but for only a mo- 
ment, and then it was gone. Gone entire Iv. But Gertrude 
was still looking at the man who looked at her, her face 
turning fieiT red the while, which she felt, but still kept on 
looking. 

That was surely Harald Richter ! He had hardly 
changed at all in these nine years ; he only seemed to have 
grown browner, more vigorous, manlier, handsomer, more 
earnest. "What earnest eyes he had ! And how he could 
look at one with them ! But with all their scrutiny the 
eyes did not know who it was the}’ saw before them. No, 
certainly not ; if he had recognized Trudel, he would have 
raised his hat, for Harald Richter had never been lacking 
in courtesy and could not have become .so either. 


tuudel’s hall. 


57 


Nor did she give him a very long while, but walked 
on, and springing into the carriage, rolled off homeward. 

So in spite of his age he was not married, this she 
had already been told, and he was sad, this she had seen 
for herself — and both these bits of infoi’mation made her 
very happ}'. At least for a moment, and this was also a 
])irthda 3 ' present and a very delightful one, for Avluch she 
thanked God and the world — the latter b}^ the sunniest of 
moods at dinner time. 

How curiously’ chance often interferes ! It happened 
the next da}^ that Miss Gertrude complained of headache 
about the same hour, or perhaps a trifle earlier, and 
5Iamma advised her to take another drive, such as she had 
taken the da}" before, which seemed to have done her so 
much good. 

And it happened that hardly had the maiden seated 
herself beneath the tree when the gentleman on horseback 
rode past the gate, and this too, much earlier than was the 
case the day before. 

Etiquette required the young lady not to let herself be 
stared at again as yesterday, and so she arose quickly from 
the rustic seat, and walked rapidly toward the house. 

Just then she heard behind her the bell of the garden 
gate pulled. And as she glanced around and saw Harald 
Richter standing in front of it, holding his horse by the 
bridle and lifting his hat in the other hand, she felt that 
she might retrace her steps, for her conjecture, that he 
wished to greet with cordialit}' an old friend, was fully 
justified. 

She went to meet him and met — a disappointment, 
for, well as Ilarald remembered the house and the garden 
and the lady who liad made his heart palpitate once upon 
a time, he had no longer any remembrance of a little crea- 
ture that played ball and was called Trudel, and in any 


58 


trudel’s ball. 


case, the bearer of this name had altered so much in 
appearance that he would have imagined an3'thing else 
rather than that he had his little friend of that time before 
him. Gertrude must therefore have resembled her mother 
but slightl}' if at all. 

“Pardon me, madame, if I intrude !” he said politely’, 
“Ma^' I inquire to Avhom this house belongs at present?” 

Just wait ! thought the girl, and little mischief that 
she had been from her earliest da3’s, she took advantage of 
the courteous gentleman’s inquir3’ and fibbed a little to 
him, 1)3' naming the man who had rented the house and 
had resided in it the 3'ear before. 

“The daughter of the house?” Harald inquired 
further. 

“Yes, sir.” 

Harald handed her one of his calling cards — Trudel 
did not need to glance at it to read the name, for she had 
one just like it, although perhaps no longer quite so 
smooth,' in her pocket — and asked her whether her parents 
would be so kind as to allow him to stroll around these 
grounds a little while. He had been awa3^ from the coun- 
tiy for 3'ears and found his native cit3' veiy much altered, 
iu this spot alone, where he once, no, twice in his life, had 
spent some veiy momentous hours, that had decided his 
fate, eveiything seemed to have remained about the same 
as of old. 0nl3' the trees and hedges had grown some- 
what taller. 

And the people too, thought Gertrude. 

She did not sa3’ aiything of the kind aloud, however, 
and onl3' remarked that he was at libert3' to walk around 
as long as he liked, although her parents did not happen 
to be there just then. She would not disturb him in the 
enjo3'ment of his reminiscences, and so she turned toward 
the house, and he bowed profoundlv in silence. 


trudel’s ball. 


59 


Soon afterward she entered her carriage, and he 
mounted his horse again, and each returned to town b}’ a 
different wa}'. 

Though Crertrude had at first considered it dreadful 
that her old friend, “the best friend in the world,” had not 
onl}' failed to recognize her, but had not even inquired 
after her, she now on her drive home considered it per- 
fecth' delightful that her resemblance to another person 
had not impelled him to look at her again. For that he 
had not returned exclusively on account of the grounds — 
and at the same hour as yesterday — she was enough of a 
woman to discern. 

IIow correct she was in her surmise was showm tlie 
next day and the following days. Gertrude made a dail}' 
custom of her drive that stimulated her whole nature so 
wondei’fully — and its sanitary effects were kept up, as tlie 
kindest of all chances so contrived it that she saw Harald 
Richter each time and soon spoke to him. At first he 
onlj’ met her on the wa}', riding past her carriage ; and then 
he happened to find her sitting again in the garden, and 
rising in his stirrups inquired after her health and, Avithout 
further preliminaries, commenced a conversation that Avas 
carried on for some time across the hedge. HoweA’er, as 
such coiiA'ersations, especiall}^ AV'hen they last nearly an 
hour, are very apt to attract attention even in the little 
suburb of Charlottenburg, and as the two had so very 
much to saA’ to each other, and did not feel at all like 
strangers an}' longer, and expected CA^ery moment that 
“ lier parents Avould return,” to whom Mr. Richter Avas A'ery 
anxious to be introduced, the}' chatted the next time for an 
hour and a half in the garden. And so things AA^ent on, 
further and further, more and more delightful, and until 
Mr. Ilarald had known for a long time that the parents of 
his young lady friend did not reside out here and that 


60 


TRUIJEL S BALL. 


nobody was living here at the time of his visits and that 
his young lady was that little Trudel with whom he once 
played ball at a very momentous hour. 

Old}' what was hidden inside the ball, this he did not 
learn, and when he complained to her whom he now loved 
that he could not to this day, understand how^ the lady 
whom he liad loved at that time could have replied to his 
w'ritten proposal of marriage b}' the announcement of her 
engagement to Gudeke, the lady of his love would become 
very silent and very sad, and would have liked to die in 
her anguish and despair. 

She kept begging him also to postpone his call upon 
her parents. Earnestly as he insisted upon it, she had a 
hundred reasons against it, some of which were obvious to 
him at times. But Trudel in her heart had only one, that 
in such a case Harald and Mamma must come to an ex- 
planation and the clearing-up of old mysteries, and that he 
would not be able to love her anv longer after hearing 
of what baseness she had been capable. 

The poor girl cried all night long and spent her days 
in anguish and torment, trembling to look forward to each 
approaching minute for fear that it might cause Ilarald’s 
patience to give out and bring him to her mother’s drawing- 
room. And when he did see her mother again .... she 
was still very pretty and still not over-happy. 

No Avonder that Gertrude grew pale and hollow-eyed 
and that Mrs. Gudeke with the best of intentions could not 
disguise the fact any longer from herself that her daughter's 
daily drives were quite an injury to her, and therefore must 
be discontinued. This was commanded all the more urgeiit- 
\y when her husband sputtered out in a terrible rage. — 
There had been some disgraceful reports circulated in and 
about the factory in regard to his step-child, which neither 
his authority nor his anger could put a stop to, in view of 


trudel’s ball. 61 

the fact that so many eye-witnesses had seen the gentle- 
man visitor in the grounds of the villa. 

Then came horrible hours, dreadful days, wretched- 
ness, distress and imprisonment. They urged Trudel to 
confess the name of the insolent fellow. That would have 
put an end to everything. No, she would not give his 
name, they could lock her up and do whatever they liked 
to her ! 

Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Gudeke could comprehend this 
obstinacy. They considered Gertrude with her one-and- 
twenty years mature enough to many, and thought it must 
be some horrible infatuation, if the gentleman under such 
circumstances could not be named — some criminal, some 
married man, disgraced bankrupt, socialist — Gudeke ex- 
hausted his powers of imagination, but did not happen to 
think of Harald Richter, his wife still less, and Trudel kept 
silence. 

She did not say anything, but she wrote, she wrote to 
him that everything was at an end, that he must go awa}' 
and forget her and let lier die. 

Harald was not going to do either the one or the 
otlier, but was going to see his Trudel today, tomorrow, all 
the days of his life. He had promised her not to speak to 
her parents until she should give him leave ; but if she 
were not going to be his sweetheart any more, he should 
consider himself also released from his promise, and would 
soon have these mysterious obstacles removed, etc. 

Gertrude begs for a few days of grace. She actually 
thinks of putting an end to herself. Onl}- she wants to see 
her beloved once more. Harald writes morning, noon and 
night, each letter sweeter than the others, a constantly in- 
creasing, already tolerabl}' thick pile of manuscrii)ts. Ah, 
his letters are her only happiness in the midst of all this 
despair. 


62 


trudel’s ball. 


But the days of grace pass awa}' and she herself feels 
that an end must be put to this state of affairs. She ap- 
points a final interview with Harald in the garden of the 
villa. She will certainly be able to get out of the house 
for once, even if it should be at another hour than that in 
which they used to be so happ}'. 

Her former governess, the old Frenchwoman, who 
still occasionally visits her grown-up pupil, allows herself 
to be persuaded to countenance the rash act and invent 
some pretext to get her unfortunate Trudel out of doors. 

It was early in the morning and gave promise of a 
superb da}’. But the air was still fresh and cool as the 
two drove out through the silent park in an open cab. 
More than once a shudder passed over the girl’s frame, 
and when the guardian of her youth at such times took 
hold of her hands to quiet her, they were cold as ice. 

“You must have wept ever so much lately,” said the 
Frenchwoman sympathetically, in a low tone. 

A sigh, barely audible, and a fleeting upward glance 
toward the blue, cloudless sky, were the only reply. 

“ And nobody knows why ! ” said the governess again, 
and grew very pensive. Both were silent after this until 
the cab stopped in front of the villa. 

And nobody shall ever know ! Trudel said privately 
to herself, but aloud she said: “Now go on up to the 
house and promise me that you will not look down this 
way if you hear anybody in the garden.” 

The good-natured Frenchwoman promised whatever 
Trudel required of her. The two then went into the house. 
Trudel got the keys to the attic from the gardener and 
rummaged around a long while up there among the rub- 
bish, until the two old people shook their gray heads more 
than once over the restless girl. 

But after a little while the young lady came down 


trudel’s ball. 


63 


stairs again and wanted the gardener to get her a hatchet 
and a sharp one at that. The old man this time shook his 
head in earnest, and not until Trudel had assured him that 
she did not wish to inflict an}’ personal injury upon herself 
or anybody else, but only to break open the lid of an old 
trunk, the key to which was nowhere to be found, did he 
yield — and then only upon condition that he himself 
should perform the operation. 

Why not ! The wood crashed and broke into splinters. 
The trunk la}* open before them revealing all sorts of dusty 
rubbish resting peacefully within as it had done for so 
many years. 

The gardener was now curious as to what was going 
to be taken out of it and for whose benefit, but with unsat- 
isfied curiosity he was sent away down stairs. 

With her dainty handkerchief held to her mouth, so as 
not to breathe the stirred up dust, which hovered around 
and over the neglected old trash — a glance, a grasp, a 
shove, — and with the ball of fate in her pocket she walked 
down into the garden with a lagging step and beating 
heart. 

From the maple tree a leaf floated down upon the 
girl’s lap, the sparrows hopped up and chirped around her 
prett}’ little feet, she sat there so motionless, her arms 
crossed on her breast, gazing fixedly at the ii’on gate 
through which the one she longed for would appear. 

But when Harald Richter at last came in through the 
little entrance, she did not spring to her feet to fly to meet 
him, her whole l)ody seemed to be paralyzed with grief 
and fear, and only two heavy tears rolled slowly down 
her cheeks. 

For the last time ! this was her only thought. He 
hurried up to her, he kissed her hands, he overwhelmed 
her with a thousand tender reproaches, and kept repeating 


64 


trudel’s ball. 


the one sensible proposition — to have a talk with her 
mother. 

Trndel onl}' kept shaking her head and crying besides 
the while and holding his hand tightly clasped in both 
of hers. 

Then all at once she summoned all her strength of 
will and, resolving to put an end to her torture and her 
happiness, she leaned forward, released his hands and 
asked : 

“ Did 3"ou love 1113’ mother? ” 

“Certainly,” the gentleman replied “ and dearl}’, too. 
But that was long ago, and is nothing new to 3’ou.” 

“ And you wanted to many her? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ And proposed to her? ” 

“ How often I have told you all about it ! I proposed 
to her in a letter. And it will always be a mystery to me 
why ” 

A violent shake of his sweetheart’s head interrupted 
Harald’s remark. lie looked at her in astonishment and 
she began to speak then, hastily, sternl}', in a trembling 
voice and with glowing, feverish cheeks. 

“I am going to explain this m^’stery to 3’ou. Your 
letter was never delivered. The one to whom you entrusted 
it suppressed it, and never until this minute has she ever 
uttered a S3dlable to indicate that such a proposal was ever 
made. 1 saw that my mother was expecting 3’our letter 
with all possible anxiety of heart, and I kept it from her. 
I saw you perishing with hunger for her reph’, and I said 
nothing. Why I did it, I do not know. Probabl3' out of 
the wickedness of m3’ heart. I was a child, nothing but a 
child, it is true — but I knew what 3’ou two intended, what 
you considered for your happiness, what would certainl3’ 
have been for the happiness of 3’ou both — for you are the 


trudel’s ball. 


65 


two best human beings in the w’orld — I saw 5’ou loving, 
hoping, suffering, and I committed a wrong against both 
of 3'ou intentionally* and understandinglyL I did not want 
you two to be happy together. Not you two ! 

“ Aftenvard my conscience accused me for it. But T 
did not have courage to confess my^ crime. There where I 
had frustrated the highest happiness, a lesser happiness, 
but still a happiness, had grown up in its place, and I did 
not have the courage to pull it up by the roots with a con- 
fession that could no longer benefit any one. 

“ It caused me to be hard and bitter to myself and to 
everybody else. It alienated me from my mother. It 
made my own home distasteful to me. It embittered my 
youth and kept all happiness far from me. Nor was this 
enough ! I had to learn to love you, y^ou, the one human be- 
ing above all others against whom I had sinned, so terribly, 
so unpardonably. — I had to love you, and to complete my 
wretchedness, I am loved by y*ou, my only friend, my dear- 
est friend, in return, and now finally*, I have to confess 
every*thing to y*ou, and by my^ confession forfeit y*our love. 

“I know that you must despise me now. Indeed I 
hate myself — and since I have loved y*ou, I have hated 
myself with a regular fury. Go away*, trample me beneath 
your feet, me, the hypocrite, the thief, who destroyed the 
highest happiness of her own mother, look away from 
me, when chance brings you across my path, forget me to 
the very last trace of an insinuating thought — but ah, tell 
me once more, only just once more, that you did love me, 
tell me this in your dear sweet voice, that you did love me 
with all your heart, say it just once more, and then go ! 
then go, for God's sake ! ” 

She sank down with the last breath of her passionate 
address, gazing fixedly before her, and let her tears fall un- 
restrainedly upon her heaving bosom. 


66 


trudel’s ball. 


Harald too was staring at her in dumb amazement, 
and when he ‘ at length made a move to speak, Gertrude 
rose qiiiekl}' to interrupt him, as if she were afraid of what 
he would say first, which could only be her sentence of 
doom. 

“ Perhaps you do not believe that a child could have 
been so wicked. Alas, I have the proof in m3' hands. Do 
you want to know what became of 3'our letter? .... Here 
you have it again ! No human eye except that of the 
writer has ever rested upon its lines.” 

The man who with the girl’s increasing passion onl\' 
held his own the more firml3' under his control, looked 
down at what his loved one had forced into his hand, and 
said in a suppressed voice : “ That is not a letter, but a 

ball, or something of that kind.” 

“Do 3'ou think so?” cried Gertrude seizing the ball 
from his I hands, and with a sharp little knife which she 
had read}^, she ripped oflT first the crocheted jacket, then 
cut through the thick covering of all sorts of worsteds and 
silks, peeled off the old covering and finally pulled out 
with her two fingers a crumpled paper, from which only a 
few scraps of tow and a little sawdust had to be blown, if 
any one wanted to unfold it and read it. 

The gentleman’s hand trembled a little with sni> 
pressed excitement as he took the old sheet of paper and 
recognized it b}- the first lines. Then he looked from the 
letter to Gertrude, who was sitting as if annihilated before 
him, crouching down like a person awaiting the last blow 
of the executioner’s axe, or a poor deer, quivering for the 
last tim.e before the jaws of the tiger which the next mo- 
ment is going to tear it to pieces. 

Strong as he was, he could not prevent tears from fill- 
ing his e3’es at this touching sight. lie was not able to 
speak at once, but he grasped the girl tightly and folded 


trudel’s ball. 


67 


her impetuously in his arms, clasping her in them so 
closelj’, covering her eyes, mouth and cheeks with such a 
showier of kisses, that Trudel was nearly suffocated and 
could only with difficulty manage to speak. 

“ Harald, what are you doing ! Let me go, 3’ou surely 
must consider me utterly heartless and despicable. ...” 

“ Little goose ! ” the gentleman replied, “/consider 
you‘? and what for? Don’t you know, you blessed simple- 
ton, whj' you burdened your young conscience with all that 
wickedness? ” 

The girl looked at him helplessly in her amazement. 

“ Because you loved me from the beginning, uncon- 
sciously and 3’et certainly, childishl}* and yet passionately. 
Yes, Trudel mine, you have been in love with me, the 
wandering blockhead, from 3'our ver^' childhood, when you 
were still placing children’s games and your little heart 
did not even know how to make itself understood. But 
3'ou did not want to give me up to anj" one else, even to 
that estimable lady j-ou loved above all other ladies. You 
have loved me ever since you had an}’ feelings of your 
own, and defended 3’our love with the weapons 3’ou had. 
You naught}’ child, 3’ou sweet sinner, don’t 3’ou know that 
this confession and its proof make me the happiest of men, 
and that I am blessing the da}' when you, my devotedly 
adored little piece of wickedness, committed that crime for 
w'hich I shall continue to thank you as my guardian angel, 
as long as I can breathe and feel.” 

He started to clasp her again in his arms. But she 
evaded him. A disagreeable idea had been suggested by 
his words. Partially rising from the rustic seat and turn- 
ing away from him, she exclaimed: “IJow can you talk 
so, Ilarald, and rejoice that your old love affair came to 
grief! ” 

“Dear ” Harald cried, and after a brief pause for 


08 


trudel's ball. 


reflection started upon a long discourse. But Oertrude 
laid her hand over his lips, and said : 

“ Did you not love Mamma? ” 

“Yes indeed, Trudel. But not as I love you ! ” 

A fresh blush suffused the young lady’s cheeks, and 
she continued : 

“ It is easy to say that afterwards. But it seems to 
me a shame that one can undervalue the old love when per- 
haps the last love is the least sincere.” / 

“ Foolishness and no end ! ” exclaimed Harald. “ Proof 
against proof ! There, read that! Audi have written to 
you too ! ” 

She seized the proflTered letter, which had- slept so 
long unread in Trudel’s ball, with trembling Angers and 
devoured its contents with glowing e3’es. Then these e^'es 
filled with tears and from behind this moist veil a rapture 
beamed forth that effaced all former sorrow. 

Yes, yes, it was a ver^' pretty, polite, respectful letter 
in which not a single line approached the others too 
closely, and each little sentiment marched priml}’ along 
behind the others. Very amialile, very urgent, promising- 
much — all that one could ask for ! And yet not a single 
gleam of that passion that was revealed in the hundreds 
and hundreds of glowing lines written to Trudel with 
the eloquence of a heart all on fire with devotion, suffer- 
ing no contradiction, no doubt, no other sentiment t<j 
arise, than that she is loved as no other woman on earth, 
and must love him in return as no other man is loved. 

Then she too clasped her arms around his neck, and 
the}' kissed each other with hearts brimming over with 
happine.ss, and never satisfied lips. 

There is no doubt but what this soul-refreshing per- 
formance would have been repeated there several times that 
morning under the maple tree, if during a pause for breath. 


TKrDEL’s BALL. 


69 


thej' had not suddenl}’ become aware of the presence of 
Cousin and Father Gudeke, who with clasped hands resting 
on the table, was standing patiently in front of them, until 
the two hearts floating in their lover’s heaven, should find 
it convenient to listen to his discourse. 

The kind-hearted Frenchwoman in the long course of 
the morning and under the pressure of increasing anxiet}', 
had not been able to refrain from pulling the curtain to 
her window a little to one side and peeping down into the 
garden — she had seen the gentleman who had arrived and 
after some racking of her In-ains, had also recognized him. 

Thereupon she had by dint of meditation and remem- 
bering succeeded in forming this theoiy, that Trudel would 
not for anything disclose to her mother her love for Har- 
ald, simply because she was afraid that the young man 
once so well liked, might prove an abomination in ]Mrs. 
Gudeke’s eyes, and that her present husband himself might 
receive his former ri^'al into his house with suspicion and 
prejudice, if he received him at all. 

Such nonsensical misconceptions should not make her 
pet sigh another hour. The old lady at once made a 
heroic resolve, slipped out of the grounds by the back gate 
near the outhouses, and ran as fast as she could over to 
the factoiT, where she forced her way into Mr. Gudeke’s 
office and laid the matter clearl}' before him, appealing to 
his conscience, his sense of duU' and a lot more of other 
fine sentiments that must dwell and have their being in 
the breast of so good a man. And the good man did not 
pause a moment to reflect, but pulled down his sleeves, 
took his hat and left. 

And there he stood beside the still breathless govern- 
ess, whom every one will forgive for her well-meant little 
breach of promise, and addressed Harald and Gertrude 
solemnly and rather incoherently. He reproached them. 


70 


trudel's ball. 


asking how under the sun the^' could have hit upon such 
horrid ideas as that Mamma. . , . Mj' God ! Such an idea ! 
... .or eA’-en that he. . . . Goodness Gracious ! 

And even if for some inexplicable cause. . . .perhaps 
just at the first moment.... to be sure, hardly possible, 
but still Mamma. . . .well, an}' way they must hold their 
heads up, and kiss each other for the last time this fore- 
noon — it was just about twelve — and follow him. Now he, 
Gudeke, would take the matter in hand, and everything 
would turn out all right. 

And he did take the matter so well in hand that not 
long afterward Harald and Gertrude could clasp hands for 
the eternal union. So then the pair rejoiced in their love, 
and their happiness was deep and enduring. 

Trudel’s ball, however, which had (*,ontributed so 
much, if not eveiA thing to their love affair, the ungrateful 
creatures in their ecstasy of love had left naked and gaping 
on the table in the garden under the maple tree, without 
concerning themselves in the least about it. 

The gardener found the dilapidated thing lying on the 
clean table when he was raking the gravel and pushing the 
garden-seats into their places. With a quick grasp, he 
removed it. Then with his apron he wiped the spot again 
where it had been lying, looked contemptuously with an 
ignorant glance at the instrument of fate, and with his 
horny, cracked hand deposited Trudel’s Ball in his rubbish- 
bag. No mortal eye ever beheld it again. 


THE 

FORTUNES AND FATE OF 
LITTLE SPANGLE. 

[From the German of Hans Hopfen.] 


Copyright, 1885, by l, schick. 




1 HAT was a dog for .you ! ” exclaimed the Major, 
his moustache twdtching as if some sorrowful reminiscence 
had been aroused. 

“ I shall never see his like again ! But how strange - 
that you should still remember that dear little creature. 

“A black and tan? Oh no, he was a shagg}- little 
terrier. The very ideal of what is usually called a Scotch 
terrier. ‘ Cheesy ’ was the nickname given him bj^ the 
street bo^’s who had known him a long while. For his 
first master had been a dealer in provisions. Can you still 
remember a little store, just opi)osite the brew'ery, where 
they had butter and cheese for sale? He used to lie there 
in the show window between the 3’ellow^ rolls. And it was 
thus he obtained his nickname among those who knew 
him in the first stage of his existence — while he was ^-et a 
civilian. We were still keeping up those social evenings — 
3"ou remember — in the second stoiT of the brewery. On 
m3" way across the ‘ square ' — the name on the street corner 
is now the ‘pm’k,’ for some inexplicable reason — 1 used to 
see tlie dog and think that he was ver3" handsome in his 
wa3' and that a dog like him was out of place in a show- 
window among butter and cheese. I soon came to terms 
with the owner who was anxious himself to give the livel3" 
little creature a better future, and so little Spangle entered 
the arm v. 


6 THE FORTUNES AND PATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 

“‘Spangle' was his real name. You know what a 
spangle is — one of those small round pieces of shining 
tinsel that jugglers and circus riders like to sew on their 
clothes. 

“ Round and bright he was too ; but he did not get 
his name from anything sham about him. Spangle was 
trusty, loyal and true as a good dog should be, loyal unto 
death. 

“ You thought he was still alive? Ah, no. Accord- 
ing to his 3'ears he might be still alive. He was cut off in 
his ver}" prime. He died like a hero in the enem3'’s coun- 
tr3' — I had almost said, on the field of gloiy, although it 
was onl3" in a private affair of his master. 

“ Who knows what might otherwise have happened ! 

“ You want me to tell you little Spangle’s story? .... 
And wdi3' not? It is the history of a noble little creature. 
La voila! 

“ All right ! But I cannot tell it without a little 
French. But of that more anon ! — 

“ To begin with, I must tell 3'ou that ‘ Chees3’^ ’ allowed 
himself to be transformed without the least trouble or cere- 
mony into a stylish little regimental dog, proud and aris- 
tocratic, and affording us all lots of fun. He was alwa3'S 
at 1113' heels in the barracks, without making himself con- 
spicuous any more than was proper ; at night he slept at 
m3' feet on the bed without snoring ; when I was on guard 
dut3' he would follow after me with Caspar, m3' attendant, 
and would, as he used to do in the gi’ocer’s, jump up on 
some window-sill of the guard’s room in the lower floor of 
the palace, Avhere he would lie all da3' long on a red cushion 
between flower pots and helmets and allow himself to be 
admired b3^ the passers b3'. Wherever I went. Spangle 
went too. If I went to the theatre or to make a call, or 
an3'where else where m3' little four-footed companion was 


THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 7 

rather out of place. I would leave him outside, and there he 
would wait like a sentinel, patiently and faithfull^^ until he 
saw me again. I remember that once on a cold winter’s 
night, escorting a lady home, I left the opera house by a 
different door from that by which I had entered. I have 
forgotten by this time whether the opera or the lady was 
to blame for it, but during the whole evening I did not 
think once of the dog, until returning home, long after 
midnight, from the breweiy across the opera liouse square, 
I came unexpectedly upon my little Spangle, remaining 
there at his forgotten post, faithful to his duty, although 
shivering with cold. 

“ One bad habit of his at times gave me some embar- 
rassment. Spangle had a wa^- of cliasing anything that 
moved with a clatter or rustle along the ground, with a 
profusion of yelps and comical little jumps, manifesting in 
this frantic wa}’ his displeasure at all such surperfluous 
noise. It ‘ gave ’ on his nerves, as the French sa\'. I was 
obliged to admire his taste though T did not like his way 
of giving expression to it. Probably in his early da^ s the 
grocer’s urchins had badly teased him in some such way, 
dancing their handkerchiefs on the stone floor, or a bunch 
of kej’s tied to a string, or the tail of a kite, or something 
of that kind. In short, decorously and modestly as he 
behaved at other times, whenever anything rattled along 
the gi’ound. Spangle seemed possessed to be after it, and 
not merely to bark at it, Init to bite it if possible. 

“So3'Ou can ju.st imagine this scene — the long walk 
up to the barracks and the pompous commanding officer 
walking along with his sword hanging low, the metal scalv 
bard clanking against the edge of each separate stone in 
the pavement and grating across them like a pencil over a 
slate, and Spangle furiously' after him, yelping and scold- 
ing and paying for his foolish attempts to seize the clank- 


8 THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 


ing scabbard in his teeth with additional disagreeable sen- 
sations to which he likewise gave free expression. 

“The Colonel swears and stops short after a dozen 
steps : 

“ ‘ To whom does this confounded beast belong? ’ 

“Silence on all sides. A kick that luckily takes only 
partial effect, still the cur is dashed howling against the 
wall. Then a man who can’t stand this, grabs him away 
from the wall, about as 3-011 would catch a fly, only with 
both hands. 

“ ^leanwhile his owner has emerged from out of some 
coi’uer of the barracks, and presents himself in his finest 
attitude to beg for pardon. 

“ You can just imagine the remarks ! 

“But it was even more dreadful if possible to luiA^e to 
apologize to some 3-ounger comrade, the 3-oungest lieu- 
tenant for instance, whose sword afforded him the most 
delightful satisfaction as it clanked along, but who could 
not kick the captain’s terrier against the wall quite so 
summarily. 

“ We could not say to the officers : ' Leave this al)surd 
clatter and clanking to students and such people, who can 
onl3' buckle on a sword a few times a 3-ear, and walk along 
the jiavements without this brassy music. The dog is 
entirely right.’ No, we had to stupidly give in to custom. 
‘If it’s too long, it stays too long,’ the proverl) says. 

“And so no choice was left me but to let drag 1113- 
own sword, contraiy to my taste and habit, and thus grad- 
uall3' impress the conviction upon m3- easily taught little 
Spangle that this clatter was part of our calling and that 
uncontrollable nervousness was incompatible with our 
profession. 

He took the hint. Not w-ithout some painful efforts. 


THE FORTUNES AND PATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 9 

it is true. The price of virtue, in the gods’ decree, is effort 
iind even blows too ! sometimes, 5'ou know. 

“ So he did not chase clanking scabbards anj' more. 
But he once tore a lady’s train. Fortunately this was soon 
paid for — the train, I mean. He tore out a three-cornered 
piece, as long as that, right on the public street; of course 
this could not pass either without some more severe dis- 
ciplining. I began a regular course of training with clat- 
tering and trailing articles, and I practiced Spangle in my 
room and on the parade ground to the best of 1113' abilit}’. 
The result was never a complete success, I was unable to 
make myself thoroughh' understood. But as he came in 
contact with ladies’ trains but seldom, his perversit}' had 
no further evil consequences to the poor dog. 

“ And, to make a long stoiy short, T had succeeded in 
making a perfect!}’ well-behaved and refined little dog out 
of ‘Cheesy,’ w’hen the war broke out. and then gradually 
ensued a period of bewilderment not only for honest little 
Spangle, but for his fine master as well, of which neither 
had had any previous conception in their former circum- 
stances. 

“ The order to proceed to the seat of war came so rap- 
idly and startlingly upon us, that I did not have time to 
i-eflect to whom at home T should present Spangle as a 
parting gift, or entrust him to keep for me. 

“ ‘ Ah, dear Captain, do let’s take the little beasty with 
us. What harm will it do if he sees a Frenchman too!’ 
my attendant exclaimed imploringly, when we were dis- 
cussing the matter, neglected until too late. ‘The Zouaves 
have their cats perched on their knapsacks, and why 
shouldn’t our regiment have its little dog? ’ 

“‘All right!’ I replied, without much deliberation, 
and as we took the cars at the depot, there sat Spangle 
opposite me in the officer’s compartment. He behaved 


10 THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 

himself well on the journe}'. I paid but little attention to 
the dog during the weeks that followed, as is eas3’ to 
understand, but Caspar, my attendant, was dotingly fond 
of the little creature, and suffered so from homesickness 
and ennui that he probabl}’ paid only the more attention 
to it on that account. 

“ I cannot remember what happened or did not hap- 
pen to Spangle during those days of excitement and ex- 
pectation. But I shall never forget how, that day at 
Weissenburg when we were stationed at the foot of the 
Gaisberg, and I was standing at the head of m3’ coni- 
pan3^ in that exhilarated state of mind 3’ou all know, 
exchanging a word now and then with first one and 
then another, and calling out some cheer}’, encourag- 
ing exclamation to the men, and glancing at the drum 
bo\’s for the hundredth time — there was little Spangle be- 
side me, squatting on his haunches, and gazing affection- 
atel}’ up at me, patting the ground with his little tail, 

“How can an animal know one’s state of mind ! But 
I could not real!}’ be angiy that he was there then, his 
sparkling eyes gazing up at me so fondl}’ and so familiarh’ 
through his shaggy hair. 

“I had noticed an adjutant just hurry past. But he 
had not been the first who had come and gone, and still we 
were standing on the same spot. 

“ T nodded and whistled to the dog, so that he began 
to dance on his hind legs, before I noticed that the Major 
in 'propria persona; was riding up to me. 

“ I glanced up quickly and met his grave, kindl}’ e}’es. 

“‘All read}’ Captain!’ he said calmly in a low and 
business-like tone .... Bear old friends we are none of us 
cowards, we know each other well, and know what we each 
amount to. But we can confess to each other that when 
we hear that low, brief, business-like sentence : ‘ All ready. 


THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 11 

Captain ! ’ even if one lias longed and prayed for that 
glorious moment all his life, it does not sound exactly 
pleasant. I will not say that it is unpleasant either. But 
it seems as if some tiny fibre had given way within one, 
from which some last hope, some false conclusion, some 
silly idea had been dangling. How can I express it? But 
it is a memorable moment: ‘All readv. Captain!’ Just 
as if some one w^ere saying : ‘ It is your lead, play away ! ’ 

“ We don’t have to think of duty and honor — they are 
a matter of course ; but we are human beings, and each 
one has his own thoughts. Thinks in a flash, — then it is 
all over and we are ‘all read}’,’ that is, we start forward. 

“ I can still see that loveh’ summer day in my mind, 
the road through the woods under the trees, from one to 
the other, and along the open mountain side, the long 
terrific stretch swept by the enemy’s guns, making one 
feel like a wandering tai-get. A lovely region, the one 
to which we were brought that first day. 

“There, there, I was neither to praise nor to blame 
for it. and, thank God, the way led up to victoiy. 

‘•I kept nu’ men in good humor. And our boj’S 
rushed along till it was a delight to see them. You know 
all about it already. 

“ At first there was some joking and chaffing. Per- 
haps not in every case without some effort, but without 
an}’ discord. And on, on, all the time. The (piick step 
turned to a moderate run. The charging ranks grew more 
silent, but not entirely so. Fi’om the other side far away 
the roar came across to us. And then from over yonder 
too. A branch snapped to the right and a twig fell on our 
left. The poplars rustled and creaked. The enemy had 
been shooting too high thus far. Here some chaffing re- 
mark and there some mocking ejaculation. And first close 
by and then farther away, little furrows were thrown up in 


12 THE FORTU>'ES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 

the sand. The dust choked us a little. The men were 
laughing at something. And again the branches snapped. 
Then some one near me said something, another laughed 
at it, a third and a fourth cheered. All in good spirits. 
Hurrah ! 

“Then suddenl}" somehodj^ cried: ‘Jesus, Mary and 
Joseph !’ threw his gun away, brandished his outstretched 
arms a moment and burrowed then in the sand and grass 
with his ten fingers, writhed a moment and then la}' there, 
the first one killed ! 

“ Poor fellow ! no help for him ! Forward, onward ! 
No time to stop ! 

“But Spangle did not understand this. His order- 
loving little mind could not permit any one to lie down 
in the road in this way and stop doing wdiat the rest Avere 
doing, as if it were no longer any concern of his. Such a 
case of insubordination Avas ncA’^er known in the barracks 
or on the parade ground. He stopped in indignation b}’ 
the side of the fallen man and pranced impatienth' around 
him on his little legs, and cried boAv aa’oav, as if he wanted 
to say, ‘Ai'en’t you ashamed of j'ourself! get right up 
again. The rest are ’way ahead already ! ’ But as his 
bow AVOW did not produce any effect, he left the silent man 
lying there, and ran on as hard as he could run, and again 
I heard him behind me. 

“ And then more and more frequently I heard the cry : 
‘Jesus, Mary!’ and not all of the brave fellows had time 
to call on St. Joseph besides, and those who did have time 
Avere not the ones to be envied. If I had not heard that 
confounded barking, T should not haA'e knoAvn hoAv many 
Avere falling behind me. We didn’t look around ; who 
went down, who fell in the fiery rain, Avho got up again — 
Ave didn’t have time to ask. It was Avarm work, growing 
hotter and fiercer. 


THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANOLE. 13 

“ And wherever to the right or left, an}’ of the com- 
rades lay down, the Captain’s dog dashed up to him and 
scolded him with his little bow wow, and lifted his little 
fore paw up high in the air as if astonished at the ineffi- 
cacy of his remonstrances. 

“ He must have come to the conclusion soon that it 
was some game, and he went jumping to the right and to 
the left, and then his hair began to rise on end. 

“ He could not run any longer to every one that fell. 
There were too many of them. 

“ And I was no longer conscious of the dog, no 
longer conscious of any human beings ! For we were 
right in the midst of the fray. It was : Forward, for 
God’s sake, forward ! It was then all the same to us who 
and how many perished. By that time the animal spirit 
that lurks in every human being was aroused in us. Gone 
were all thoughts of mercy, humanity and gentleness. We 
struck around us and hewed down as best we could, as 
many as we could. Every thing grew red before our eyes. 
Sweat and gall ! And yet no end to it ! And so we went 
on plying our murderous work in our fury, no one knew 
for how long, until our strength was exhausted and oppor- 
tunity failed, and our blind fury passed suddenly away 
like a fit of intoxication, like a fever, like a soap Imbble ! 

“They were blowing the trumpets up yonder. And 
now there ! And then there was a silence, the silence of 
death, and after a breathless moment, a shout of victory 
that shook the earth rang along the lines and up the moun- 
tain, until our lungs seemed ready to burst and the very 
trees were trembling. 

“That was victory ! We heard it in the tone, we saw 
it in the faces, we felt it in our bones. But we did not 
know exactly what had happened, nor where we were, nor 
what we had done. 


14 THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 

“ A horrible day’s work ! It was victoiy, but where 
were the poor fellows who had climbed the hill with me? 
AVas that my compaii}’? That all there was of it? Good 
God, what havoc they have made in it ! And the very 
first day ! Poor mothers at home ! 

“Reall}’ victory. This grand thought outweighed 
everything. 

“Our breasts swelled. AVe breathed more deeply. 
That was grand, historical air. AA^e enjoyed the moment 
with full consciousness. 

“Just then I felt something against my leg. Little 
Spangle was there again, licking and licking away as if he 
were craz}', and whimpering the while. And then I noticed 
for the first time that m3' own blood was trickling down 
m3' trousers. 

“ It was not a serious wound. A ball had just grazed 
me and it 01113' caused me a little pain at first and did not 
keep me long from service. 

“ Spangle himself had not got off so lightl3'. He was 
standing on three legs 01113', blood was running 

fast from his fourth one, and his hair was matted close all 
over him. The little fellow looked as if he had been 
rolled out of a dough of dust and blood and dirt ; his little 
red tongue lolled far out of his mouth ; he was evidently 
suffering great thirst with all his pain, and in his e3'es 
alone shone a gleam of delight in his jo3' at having found 
me again. 

“ ‘ Ah, Spangle, 3'ou know now well enough, wh3^ the 
brave fellows 3 onder in the wood laid down in the road 
and would not get up again, don’t 3'ou? You see this 
is war ! ’ 

“I attempted to stoop over, and an exclamation, it 
may have been an oath, escaped me, owing to the pain. A 
surgeon who was already at work near me, looked at me 


THE FORTUNES AND FA;rE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 15 

with a smile, saying : ‘ Come here, Captain, and let me 
bandage you ! ’ 

“ This was done then right away. But the man had 
no time for Spangle, on a day like that, when agony and 
dire necessit}’ were groaning from every furrow in the 
field and behind all the trees in the wood. While he was 
attending me, I asked him for advice. But he only gave 
me some poor joke in answ'er. 

“In the meanwhile my attendant had come up, and 
helped me to dress. I noticed then that m3’ uniform did 
not look much better than Spangle’s hair. M3' Caspar, a 
woodsman of the right kind, knew- how to fix eveiything. 
Even the dog. He bathed and put sticking plaster over 
the wound, and tied up Spangle's paw with a splint. While 
he was thus making himself useful, I showered a regular 
flood of invectives upon the sturd3’ victor, sa3'ing among 
other things that I would send him to the guard house, if 
that confounded dog ever got under 1113- feet again during 
a battle. ‘ He must sta3^ with the baggage wagons, and if 
he will not keep still there, let him be tied to the wagon. 
If he ever gets in m3' way again at such a time, I will 
shoot him on the spot with m3’ own hands ! ’ 

“‘There, there,’ the woodsman was thinking to him- 
self ‘You won’t do an3’ thing of the kind,’ but he was 
veiy careful not to think aloud. He ‘made up his mind,’ 
as we used to sa3’, and when he left, canned Spangle awa3' 
with him to the rear. And thus the dog came to be 
among the baggage in one of the wagons. And there he 
staid. 

“ And hence it was that he did not take part in the 
battle at Worth and did not even see the slaughter at 
Bazeilles. 

“ How maiy horrible things a man can live through 
and digest in his mind and not think of again except when 


16 THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 

some freak of memory conjures them up again. The first 
act of the glorious war was over. The arm}' of the Empire 
crushed, Napoleon a prisoner, and the first, perhaps decei> 
tive hope of a peace near at hand, passed through our 
minds and hearts hardened by this time against our wills, 
in the tempting form of a wish. 

“ We took up our quai’ters in Lorraine. It seems to 
me still like yesterday when we arrived at Nancy as night 
was falling. It had been almost three months since I had 
seen a regular city. And then that charming little nest in 
its very paradise of a country, with its small, cozy houses, 
that seemed built for well-to-do, contented people, for 
pious Philistines who do not worry themselves about the 
way the world is going, but have plenty to eat and drink, 
sleep soundly and take their little walks, and let God look 
after his own affairs. I can not imagine a more perfect 
contrast to the horrors and tumult of war than the charm- 
ing picture of that city. 

“The night of our arrival it did not present itself 
however in (juite such an attractive guise. It was foggy 
and dark as pitch. A very long train of captive French- 
men was standing in the market building, ready to start. 
Then, out of the first street we came to, a crowd of sup- 
posed franctireurs met us with their escort. Some turbu- 
lence, uproar, much lamenting and exaggerated gestures 
were to be seen here and there. Leaving the JMayor’s 
office with a few comrades, we found in a broad street 
near the Place Stanislas, a dozen or so women who were 
dancing a quadrille without any gentlemen partners. Tliey 
were the first toilettes I had yet seen in France. The gay- 
colored garments they were w'aving in the dance, only 
showed partially in the darkness. It all looked a regular 
witches’ dance, and was not much else either. We passed 
quickly by, and as I saw that Spangle looked as if he were 


THE FORTUNES AND PATE OP LITTLE SPANGLE. 17 

going to fall back into bis old bad habits and give chase, 
yelping, to those dirty trains, I spoke to him angrily and 
boxed his ears, so that he thought better of it, and with 
ears cast down, hobbled along behind me. His fourth leg 
still gave him trouble. 

“ In a certain saloon we found our compatriots sitting 
packed in long iwvs. Civilians too among them in plenty, 
those who with this or that duty or purpose in view had 
drifted into France with the army. The Nancy beer was 
excellent ; singing and talking, chaffing and cheering Avas 
going on at every table ; the oldest jokes were being 
cracked, and it AA'as strange how much at home they made 
us feel. If the omnipresent carbolic acid in the clothes of 
the railroad employes had not shed its odor around, we 
might have imagined that the war was a dream and that 
we Avere all sitting at home in some brcAvery, although not 
in the old familiar one. Even the typical figures that one 
is accustomed to sec in such a place were not lacking. 

‘‘ It was pleasant there. But unfortunately we Avere 
not to sta}’ in the cit}'. The next morning we were sent 
on to a station farther out — but not for a much longer staj' 
there either. The place had been charged Avith resistance 
and treason, it had a bad reputation and so Ave had not 
come Avith the most friendly intentions. 

“Neither did we meet Avith exactly an affectionate 
reception. Between the first and second stations a few 
shots struck the moving train and just before we came to 
our last station some rascally boys had piled stones and 
an old chair on the rails — but these Avere only the not un- 
usual attentions of the kind-hearted natives and on this 
occasion Avere not even dangerous. 

“Forced contributions Avere to be levied on each com- 
munit}' and Ave arrived at the place of our destination ready 
for any resistance. 


18 THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 

“We were soon disbanded and settled down in our 
quarters. The den of rascals looked very inviting and 
COS}-. Like a small piece of Nancy. The neat little 
houses with three windows on each side and square roofs 
tapering to a point, stood in the gardens, still green and 
full of autumn flowers and fruit. The green blinds all 
closed. 

“ However, we had summary means to open the blinds 
and the doors too, when the}' were not opened voluntarily. 

“ I stopped in front of one gate and queried with my- 
self — would you like to take up your quarters here? It 
was a modest little house. Some guinea hens and turkeys 
were picking grains out of the dust around an empty cax’t. 
With this exception everything was still. 

“ Little Spangle on three legs ahead of me, stopped 
inside the yard and looked back at me as much as to say : 
It seems very nice here. 

“I followed him with a few of my men. The next 
moment Spangle dashed around the corner as if he were 
crazy. He vanished in a regular cloud of dust stirred up 
by his three little legs. We heard him yelping frantically 
and came upon him immediately afterwards in front of an 
adjoining building — it might have been a dairy-room or 
some similar compartment without windows. The door 
painted green, was shut tight. And in front of this door 
Spangle was making a fearful uproar, with antics expres- 
sive of intense indignation, his dusty hair bristling and his 
legs, even the sore one, firmly planted, and in his snarling 
teeth a piece of starched and embroidered linen — the trail- 
ing end of some lady’s skirt — that he was jerking furiously 
to and fro with his shaggy little head, although the closed 
door held it so firmly fastened that neither the dog outside 
nor the owner, invisible to us, inside the door could tear it 
loose. 


THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANOLE. 19 

“111 front of Spangle a broad-shouldered man was 
standing, concealing the door as best he could with his 
back and hands. He too seemed to have just run out of 
the house in his first alarm and to expect anything rather 
than to have us quartered upon him. He was bareheaded 
and in his slippers. His closel3--cropped hair was almost 
entirel}’ graj’. But his moustache and whiskers, which like 
a lo3'al subject he wore waxed and twisted to a martial 
point in imitation of his sovereign and emperor, were still 
black as jet. His face was covered with wrinkles, his 
features were strongl3' defined ; in short he gave the im- 
pression of a man well along in the fifties — perhaps, how- 
ever, onl3’ at that moment, when hatred and alarm were 
distorting his features to such a bitter extent. 

“The man was acting suspicious]3'. The incompre- 
hensible alarm with which he had planted himself in front 
of his daily chamber, as much as to sa3’ : ‘ 0nl3' over my 

dead bod3" ! ’ his whole conduct was such as to impel me to 
demand his ke3’s from him. He did not give them up, he 
did not even answer me, but he shrugged his shoulders, 
clenched his fists and tore his hair. All this was as tire- 
some as it was injudicious. I motioned to my men. The 
door resisted the blows dealt with the butt ends of their 
guns. Some of them ran to the house to get some tools. 

“In the meanwhile the old man began to speak. 
Broken sentences that I did not understand. 

“ A tall, gaunt 3'oung fellow, with big bones and black 
hair, brown eyes set far back in his head, and a sallow 
countenance pitted with marks of small-pox, passed b3’ not 
far from us with a spade on his shoulder. 

“ He seemed to be silently interrogating the old man 
whether he should come to help him, but the latter cried 
to him in a harsh and commanding tone: ‘Go into the 
house, Francois .... Go ! ’ 


20 THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 

“I did not like the fellow’s looks, but as he went 
quietl}' and obedientl}" into the house, returning from some 
peaceful labor in the garden, 1 let him proceed unmolested, 
but I rejoiced to learn that the other Lorrainer could 
speak intelligently if he chose. 

“1 reasoned with him. He clasped his hands and 
seemed to be impressed. ‘You are a gentleman, a man of 
honor. . . . ’ was all that he uttered, however. 

“‘Of course,’ I exclaimed, ‘and we are not cannibals 
by an}^ means. If you have nothing worse than milk pans 
and women’s petticoats hidden in there, you can unlock 
the door with perfect confidence ; mj' men will not disturb 
either of them, and will much prefer to stick to j^our native 
wines. Open the door ! ’ 

“‘I can’t!’ he said timidly. Spangle’s barking had 
been kept up unremittingly all this while. The corporal 
then came back from the house with a chisel and iron bar. 
Before he set to work, I knocked at the green door with 
the hilt of my sword, and cried : ‘ Open the door, please 1 ’ 

“Then the wood creaked and Spangle drew back a 
moment. 

“‘All right ! I am tired of staffing in here ! ’ a femi- 
nine voice replied, and between the door and the frame a 
slender figure made its appearance, and stepped out of the 
dark room into the sunshiny garden, not without some 
caution. I saw first the black hair piled up high on the 
back of her head, then a pale face with angiy eyes, lips 
drawn down contemptuous!}', and affected movements that 
were evidently meant to express pride and decision but 
only gave me the impression of unsuccessful acting. 

“I motioned to the soldier to search the room, and 
then turned to the old man with the question: ‘Is 
that all?’ 

“The old man did not reply; he only clasped his 


THE FORTUNES AND PATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 21 

daughter to his breast with rather a theatrical air, as if his 
arms were to replace the sheltering dairy room. 

“I could not keep from laughing and turned away. 
Just then I heard the girl stamping her foot and exclaim- 
ing : ‘ The wretched dog ! ’ 

“ I could not blame her, for Spangle who had been 
deprived of all such pleasures during the campaign, had 
not reliiKjuished his hold of the white train of her pretty 
petticoat, but was still jerking it to and fro, and rolling 
himself up in its wdiite folds with great delight. 

“ As Spangle was entirely carried awa}' b}’ such an 
unexpected pleasure, so that he did not pay an}" attention 
to my first command, a gentle kick warned him to behave 
himself, to which he replied with a yelp of pain. Then he 
stepped aside. 

“ ‘ Oh, how cruel ! ’ exclaimed the young lad}-, looking 
compassionate!}* at the terrier, of whose naughtiness she 
had just been complaining. And in a low tone she con- 
tinued as she walked toward the house : ‘ How horrid they 
are ! The men as well as the dogs ! ’ So saying she and 
the old man left us, and I stepped into the dairy room. 

“She was right. I repeated it in my mind several 
times : sont-ifs affreux ces gem et ces cJtiens! We did look 
horrid. Spangle was still in his battle costume, no one 
under the sun could have told the real color of his matted, 
dirty coat ; he could hardly see out of his eyes, so neg- 
lected was his shaggy hair, his toil looked like a long black 
string, surely the dog of the Captain of the Guards looked 
worse than the badgered little ‘ Cheesy ’ had ever looked — 
Rinaldini’s dog in the Abruzzi could not have presented 
a more forlorn appearance. 

“ And like sei*\'ant, like master ! No other company 
looked so shabby as ours. The pale ])lue of our jackets 
and trousers had faded into all sorts of colors under the 


22 THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 

influence of the weather, the flghting, the different hard- 
ships and the attempts at cleaning them, and not onh’ the 
covering of the limlis and arms but likewise the covering 
of the breast, back and shoulders had each their separate 
color, and each one looked uglier than the rest. No one 
could tell whether it was meant for blue, green, y ellow or 
gray. A little of all — A coating of dirt ‘ warranted not 
to fade,’ and really something unique in its appearance. 

“We had been proud of our appearance and we had a 
right to be, but when we heard a young lad}’, seeing us for 
the first time, exclaiming : ‘ Aren’t they horrid ! ’ we could 
but acknowledge that she was right and could not blame 
her for it. 

“The fact that she had condemned the dog in the 
same fashion brought little Spangle nearer to my heart as 
a comrade in misfortune. I looked around for him and 
saw him halting half-way between the house and the dairy 
room, in a bad humor and undecided, looking first after the 
vanishing young lad}’ and then towards his master in front 
of the green door. 

“I whistled to him, he jumped on his three little legs. 
The young lady turned her head also at the same moment 
and the idea occurred to her to entice the little terrier 
away. At his wits’ end. Spangle hopped around, with half 
a jump to the right and then half a jump to the left, waver- 
ing between stern duty and long-yearned for delights. 
Then the young lady took hold of her skirts and made a 
rustling noise on the steps with the flounces, waving them 
like a fan towards the dog, until he became perfectly fran- 
tic at such a tempting sight and forgetting all discipline 
and patriotism, gave -chase to the train, yelping all the 
while, first behind and then on it, and allowed himself to 
be drawn into the house by the teeth, cutting such pranks 
that the young lady laughed aloud. 


THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 23 

Magnanimously as becomes the victor, I allowed the 
young lad}^ this trivial victory, and let Spangle go with her. 

“Nothing suspicious was discovered in the dairy- 
room. And neither did I find any milk, with the excep- 
tion of a few drops on the men’s moustaches. 

“ I walked into the house and demanded accommoda- 
tions. The brief spell of good humor had passed away 
again by this time. Probably her haughty father had 
been rebuking her for her heedlessness. I found the two 
seated side by side in the sitting room on the first floor, 
as if the}' were posing for a picture of Jeremiah and the 
muse of tragedy. 

“ Hostile, gloomy, with lips compressed and dilateil 
eyes, there the}' sat side by side as if they had no further 
concern in life than their sorrow ; as if there was but one 
more chance of happiness in this world — vengeance. 

“ Stubborn and patient as I am by nature, I examined 
the group for a while more closely. There was a remarka- 
ble resemblance between them, the daughter and the old 
gentleman, — both had the same brow, the same aquiline 
nose, the same thin lips. The black moustache and 
whiskers of course adorned the mouth and chin of the 
father alone, but a soft shadow ou the girl’s upper lip was 
not unbecoming and gave the defiant little mouth quite a 
decided character. 

“ They produced a strange impression upon me. ‘ Like 
a pair of wild animals ! ’ J said to myself This w'as really 
my first impression. Not a symptom of anything attrac- 
tive could I detect in the slender girl before me. And with 
regret I reflected that I would be obliged to assert martial 
rights as one of the conquerors and maintain them with 
more or less roughness. 

“ So I interrupted this morose silence. At my first 
word the girl rushed out of doors. I found the old gentle- 


24 THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 

man taciturn and sighing frequently, but more complaisant 
than 1 had ventured to expect from what had passed. 

“I was conducted to a sleeping apartment on the 
gi’ound floor. A cozy little room, such as had not shel- 
tered me since I left home. I threw myself down on the 
bed and while a bright little fire crackled on the hearth, 
more for looks than for warmth, I gazed out through the 
open window into the garden where the long-armed, meager 
Francois was going from bed to bed, with his spade on his 
shoulder, stooping down, and finally vanishing behind 
some green, red and yellow foliage. 

“ I took a child-like pleasure in the various tints of 
autumn, and thought of all sorts of things of which to 
think I had had neither time nor opportunity for a long 
while. I thought of home, of my comrades whom I was 
never to see again, of the war and victor}', and of the swift 
passing days that were worth all the blood and the priva- 
tions merely to live through them. And thus giving my 
thoughts free sc()[)e, sleep came at last. Half awake I 
heard Spangle barking, or thought I heard him. Then it 
seemed to me as if I saw the little terrier jumping up into 
the air or rather hovering there ; clouds, probably clouds 
of dust, all around him ; between his teeth a wdiite train 
that vanished in a mist, in a dream. And I fell asleep. . . 

“ [ was violently awakened and tumbled off m}’ couch 
as if at the call to arms. 

• 

“ It was dark as pitch in the room, the fire had fallen 
to ashes, out doors in the garden the sky was still gleam- 
ing red behind the shrubber}', fading awa}' into shadows. 
My attendant was standing beside me ; my sword in one 
hand and my cap in the other. 

“ AVhat’s the matter? ’ 

‘‘‘At the depot, sir .... a general is there,’ Caspar 


THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 


25 


had evidently been asleep also, and stammered in his 
ignorance. 

“ ‘ What does all that noise mean out there? ’ I ex- 
claimed next, as I heard tramping in the hall and numer- 
ous voices in an uproar. Spangle’s voice among them too. 
And my servant replied with a significant upward glance : 

“‘They are carrying off the old gentleman.’ 

‘“What old gentleman? Not the master of this 
house? ’ 

“ ‘ He’s the one, sir.’ 

“‘Not on account of the milk you drank? ’ I rejoined 
with a laugh, as T buckled 1113' sword belt tighter. 

“ ‘ No indeed ! He has been doing worse things than 
that ! ’ Caspar continued handing me 1113' cap. 

“I could not inquire how much he knew about the 
matter, for as I stejiped into the hall, the old gentleman 
and his daughter rushed up to me wringing their hands, 
and that pock-marked rascal, Francois, w'as there too, 
swinging his arms like a signal post at every word, wdiich 
was intended to produce a veiy convincing effect. 

“‘T swear to 3-011, Captain, that I am innocent!’ the 
old man exclaimed. 

“‘I don’t doubt it. But what is it you are accused 

of?’ 

“ ‘ I do not know. Upon my- honor, I do not know, 
but I am innocent ! ’ 

“‘Then take courage; if 3’ou are innocent, nothing 
can happen to 3-011.’ 

“ Then the tall Francois began a speech that the old 
gentleman continuall3' interrupted, and the daughter kept 
interrupting the old gentleman, and whenever the daughter 
spoke. Spangle began to bark — this seemed to be a precon- 
certed aiTangeraeut — and while all these voices were keep- 
ing up such an uproar, the iiifantry^-men were saying that 


26 THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTEE SPANGLE. 

the old man must get up on his pins and start, or the}’ 
would drag him off by the collar. 

“The Lorrainers did not seem to have understood 
this quite right, but the girl screamed w’hen she heard 
the musket stocks resound on the plank floor. ‘They are 
going to kill my father ! Papa, don’t go w’ith them ! Stay 
here ! They shall not take you away by force ! We will 
defend ourselves ! ’ 

“ ‘ Don’t talk so foolishly, mademoiselle ! I ventured 
to interpose in the uproar, and gave the old gentleman to 
understand by a gesture that he must not allow matters to 
come to that pass. ‘ If your father is innocent, if he has 
not been plotting against our troops, if he has not been 
conspiring with the enemy, I will A’ouch for it that you will 
soon have him back again safe and sound, and w’ith a 
lighter heart than he takes away with him.’ 

“ ‘ I plot anything !....! conspire ! ’ he cried. 

“‘I swear to you that Papa is entirely innocent,’ she 
cried. 

“ ‘ All right then ! ’ I cried, and ‘ Forward march ! ’ the 
guard. 

“ But the portly Lorrainer was not out of the house 
yet by any means. He cast his eyes up toward heaven, 
like Tell in the presence of his Gessler, and wanted to 
make a heroic exit, writhing in and but of his daughter’s 
arms, over and over again. Just at the last moment an 
idea occurred to him and as if he had known me for years, 
he exclaimed : ‘ But you surely are going to accompany 
me. Captain. . . .You know that I am innocent.’ 

‘“The devil I do ! ’ I was just going to say, when two 
little hands grasped my arm and I was looking into a pair 
of swimming eyes and tear-wet cheeks. The poor girl 
who seemed on the point of expiring in her anguish, clung 
to me and with all the eloquence of despair, begged and 


THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 27 

implored me not to let her father go alone. I extricated 
m3-self, T promised to do what she wanted, bade her keep 
up her courage, and beckoned to Caspar over the fence to 
keep watch of the house asnd its inmates until I returned. 

‘•Then I followed the crowd as the^’ moved along 
through the twilight towiJrds the depot. It was not a 
general, as Caspar had asserted, but still one not much in- 
ferior, before whom my host was brought. A few sus- 
pected persons and one or two corpus delicti were brought 
in from different parts of the town. As some of the offi- 
cers who knew about the affair told me, the whole trouble 
was in regard to a secret postal service, that kept up a 
correspondence with Paris behind our backs, quite a regu- 
Jarh' organized institution, more or less dangerous, of 
which traces had been discovered. 

“I approached the larger group. One of the first 
heads I noticed was that of the long-legged Francois who 
was carrying on an eager and loud conversation with the 
‘general.’ His uncle stood silent with folded .arms near 
b}'. I announced myself, told in whose house I was quar- 
tered and that the search of the premises had not resulted 
in anything compromising and that the old fellow seemed 
to me prett}' harmless. 

“They gazed at me in astonishment for a moment. 
‘Do you understand the language spoken here?’ 

“ I could say j’es to this. 

“ ‘ Perhaps there is something your host might like to 
get through you. I am going to take him and the rest to 
Nancy to be examined, and that right awaj' too.’ 

“ Perhaps there was something he needed ! He had 
left the house bareheaded and in his slippers. Neither 
had he anj" outside garment, and neither his country nor 
mine required him to travel on the railroad on that cold 
autumn night without a cloak. 


28 THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 

“I gave a note to the first man I met to take to the 
j'-oung lady and told him to bring back the hat, boots and 
cloak of the old man as fast as he could. Then I went up 
again to the officer in command. I ventured another mod- 
est remark, he gazed again at me in amazement. What I 
wanted to say was ; Let the old fellow go in peace — don’t 
you see that the long-legged, pock-marked rascal who keeps 
up such an impudent and vociferous talking, is the one 
from whom the worst things are to be expected ! But, as 
accusing others is not my forte, and as my proofs against 
Francois were all the creations of my own brain, and as, 
finally, I did not care for an^^ of the reproofs that the dig- 
nified ‘ general ’ was only too ready to bestow upon me, I 
remained silent, but thought what I pleased, and as soon 
as the train had steamed away, strolled back home again. 

“ The girl was standing at the gate waiting for me. 
She had thrown something fieecy and white over her head, 
and her hair fiuttered from beneath it in the evening 
breeze. And as her hair was floating on the wind, her 
whole figure was trembling with anxiety and fear. I could 
see that her eyes had been weeping all the while. AIL this 
cast a halo of gentleness over her sharp features that 
touched me to the heart, as I had seen her so diflhrent 
before. 

“I reiterated what I confidently believed, that a man 
such as her father seemed to be, stood in no kind of dan- 
ger, and that we Germans were unjustly accused, being in 
realit^f honest folks who never intentionally do anything 
to harm an innocent man. 

“ This seemed to calm her a little in spite of herself 
She accepted the arm I offered her to escort her up to the 
house. Forgetting herself in her anguish, the shivering 
little figure nestled close against me. The covering slipped 
from her head, I pulled it up again, and smoothed the 


THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 29 

lovely hair beneath it. Inside the house, she dropped my 
arm and passed on with a downcast look. 

“I took this as a matter of course and thought no 
more of the girl. My attention too was occupied just then 
by some article that fell with a loud noise out in the hall. 
Evidently Spangle had unintentionally knocked something 
down. Just then he came humbly sneaking into the room, 
wagging his tail, apparently alarmed at the results of his 
naught}^ scratching and prying. 

“ I took the lantern from the wall where it was hang- 
ing, but I could not find anything save the garden spade 
lying on the fioor. This must have been the object that 
Spangle had knocked down in his haste to come and 
greet me. 

“Careful!}’ I examined the simple garden tool. I 
took hold of the handle and viewed the blade, to which 
lumps of fresh dirt were adhering. ‘Seek, seek ! ’ I said in 
fun to the dog, and as I held it towards him, he jumped 
up at once and scratched with his fore paws some lumps 
of dirt from the tool. 

“A strange idea suddenly entered my mind. I put 
the spade on my shoulder, as Francois had been carrying 
it before, kept hold of the lantern, whistled to my dog and 
went down into the dark garden. 

“‘Seek, seek ! ’ I said several times to Spangle, and he 
was off across the flower beds like a fox-hound. I turned 
the light of my lantern to the right, to the left, in front 
and back of me, looking for recently disturbed places. To 
this very day, I don’t know exactly whether it was the 
terrier or I who at last after several unsuccessful attempts, 
discovered a spot where the dirt looked as if it had been 
only recently stamped down firm. Spangle scratched 
whining all around it as if he were mad. I soon had dug 
down with the spade and after some brief exertions came 


30 THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE STANGLE. 

upon an earthen jar. In the jar there was a casket. I 
took this under m3' arm and returned. There did not seem 
to be an}' one in the garden or following me. 

“But just as I was closing the house door, there came 
a knock from without, and the girl slipped in, even paler 
than before, and inquired whether I would not like some 
tea. 

“ I declined with thanks, and removed the ke}' from 
the lock. She asked then whether I would prefer a glass 
' of wine, and eveiything she said sounded modest, depressed 
and different from the wa}' she had hitherto spoken. 

“ I said 3'es to this, still she did not go, but drew in}- 
attention to a daintil}' arranged little table in m3' room, 
where a cold lunch and a full quart bottle must have been 
awaiting 1113' return for quite a while. The fire was blazing 
red and wide upon the hearth. Nothing was audible for 
several minutes but the singing of the flames. I poured 
out a glass of wine, gave some especiall}' nice morsels to 
little Spangle who was prancing with hunger and richh' 
deserved a reward, and drew the little table up to the fire. 
I sat down and looked up. Supported b}' the mantelpiece, 
the daughter of m3' host was leaning in silence against the 
wall. She was not uttering a sound nor weeping, nor 
hardl}' breathing. The fire below cast a red flickering glow 
on her hands, chin and brow ; it threw purple shadows in 
the folds of her white drapery and turned even the ends of 
her loosely flowing hair to gold. 

“ I was well aware of the cause of the girl’s lingering, 
and what the fears were, that in spite of her other fears, 
detained her in my room. T could think of no better repl}’ 
to make to her than to shrug m3' shoulders, as much as to 
say : it is not m3' fault. Then I took 1113' knife and broke 
open the cover of the casket. A couple of dozen letters 
la}' before me. 


THE FORTUNES AND PATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 31 

‘“I swear to 3'ou, sir, that Papa is innocent ! ’ cried 
the girl, and she made a movement as if to cast herself at 
m3' feet. ‘He knows nothing about it.’ 

“ ‘ So much the better for him ! ’ I replied, adding in a 
few moments, after I had read the first letter ; ‘ So it is 
Francois? ’ 

“ She said nothing and I read on. A lot of stupid 
stuff, loud-mouthed declamations, deeds of heroism made 
up out of the whole cloth, deeds of barbarism the same, 
vows of vengeance and among them a few local secrets of 
a more personal character, that had neither value nor inter- 
est for me. I found nothing among the papers of a reall3^ 
dangerous import, although there were a few imbecile 
propositions and resolutions. 

“ I sorted the papers into two piles on the table in 
front of me. The harmless letters in the left hand pile, the 
compromising ones in the right hand. I tied up the former 
and sealed them with m3' own seal ring ; then I tossecl the 
others into the fire and stirred them up with the poker un- 
til nothing was left of this blaze of hatred. 

“ Then I glanced up again at the 3'oung lad3' opposite 
me. I found that her e3'es were fastened upon me and 
that her e3'es were full of tears. She partially compre- 
hended what I had been doing. 

“ Half filled with gratitude, half still under the spell 
of her fears, she extended her hand towards the little 
bundle on my left. 

“ ‘ And the rest? ’ she asked. 

“ Instead of answering I called m3' Caspar, 

“ ‘ Take that and post it ! ’ I said to him as he stood 
before me drawn up in position. 

“ The girl started to make a dash at his hand. I held 
her back. She did not understand German it is true. 


32 THE FORTUNES AND PATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 

But the word post, common to both languages, enlightened 
her sufficiently in regard to my intention, 

‘“Are 3'ou sending those letters to the post? You ! ’ 
she exclaimed in horror, 

“‘Why not? They are only a lot of trivial, stupid 
stuff that does not concern us, I hope those to whom 
they are addressed will enjoy them if such a thing be 
possible,’ 

“ Caspar departed according to my command, I left 
the fire and went to the table to take another piece of 
bread. She followed me and filled up again the glass I 
had emptied, 

“ I had taken a step to one side, to a stand, where my 
revolver was lying on top of my partly emptied trunk. 
‘What is your name, mademoiselle?’ I said, still holding 
m}^ hands behind mj’ back. 

“She had to suppress her tears before she could 
speak. Then she whispered : ‘ Nicolette ! ’ 

“I‘ had in the meanwhile filled the barrel of my 
revolver and found that it was in proper order. 1 then 
observed as I laid the weapon aside : ‘Well then. Madem- 
oiselle Nicolette, you must give Monsieur Francois dis- 
tinctly to understand that he must go without an instant’s 
delay. I hope that Monsieur, your Papa — if no worse 
jokes than these are dug up anj’where else — will return 
home safe and sound. But I cannot guarantee anything 
of the kind in regard to that rascal of a Francois. If he 
shows himself once more around here, I must have him 
arrested whether I want to or not, or else . . . . ’ 

“I could not force myself to utter the significant 
word ; to complete my argument, I pointed to the fire on 
the hearth that had just consumed the proofs of the 
unsavoiy customer’s plotting. 

“Nicolette said neither yes nor no, she stood us if 


THE FORTUNES AND PATE OP LITTLE SPANGLE. 33 

paralyzed with fear so that she could not take a step either 
forward or backward. 

“ ‘ Will 3’ou find it very hard to banish that handsome 
young man? ’ I remarked in a jesting way. 

“ But she replied almost angril}' ; ‘ Not in the least ! ’ 

“‘Are 3-011 not in love with him? ’ 

“ ‘ What are 3-011 thinking of ! He is m3' cousin ! ' 

“‘There have been examples,’ I rejoined with a smile, 
‘of cousins making a match.’ 

“ ‘ Not in this case ! ’ Nicolette replied. ‘ You can rely 
upon not meeting my cousin an3' more in this house or in 
the village. I for m3' part am convinced that he has 
already gone into exile on his own account.’ 

“ ‘ So much the better ! ’ 

“A slight pause then became perceptible. The girl 
evidentl3' wanted to say something else and could not sum- 
mon up resolution to do so. I was tired. Consequentl3' 
I bowed with all the gallantr3' at my command and re- 
marked : ‘You have seen, Mademoiselle, that we are not 
barbarians. I hope that both of us, sheltered beneath this 
roof, will sleep calml3' and sweetl3' this night’ 

“ She took a step forward, and murmured with her eyes 
cast down to the floor ; ‘ You were veiy kind to us today, 
sir. ... ^ then she hesitated and stopped. 

“I could not suppress a smile. Evidently she wanted 
to thank me, but she could not force the words of grati- 
tude to the enemy to her lips. She could not utter them 
and I — did not want to hear them. 

“ ‘ Good night then, IHademoiselle Nicolette ! ’ I said 
cheeril3' and held out my hand cordially to my little 
hostess. 

“But affairs had not 3'et gone so far that she could 
clasp a hand that was still a^ one might say, ‘ reeking with 
the blood of her kindred.’ She made me a profound, reg- 


34 THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 

ular dancing-school courtesy, muiTunred a low : ‘ Good 
night, sir ! ’ and turned to go. 

“But just by the door another slightly roguish im- 
pulse caused her to turn around as if to nod me a last 
farewell. Her eyes, wide open, looked at me with a differ- 
ent expression than heretofore, almost kindl^^ and certainly 
inquisitive, just as if she were seeing the man before her 
for the first time as he really was, having onl}' seen a mon- 
ster up to this time, distorted by her hatred. Was she 
frightened at what she saw? Was she provoked at herself 
for this glance? — Swiftl}- she turned her head aside as if to 
extricate herself from her embarrassment, and discovered 
the dog standing beside her, gazing up expectantly to the 
lady who carried the ke^’S of the pantr}’, as if to a 
beneficent Providence. 

“ ‘ Come ! ’ she exclaimed in an undertone and van- 
ished — little Spangle with her. 

“ I ate what was on the table, I drank what was in 
the bottle, I gave thanks to the God of Battles who allows 
the roses of delightful moments to bloom now and then 
among the briers of toil and privations, and I slept the 
sleep of the just till broad daylight. 

“I was just wondering how late it might be, when I 
heard a scratching at the door of 1113' room ; then it was 
opened a few inches and in came Master Spangle frisking 
gaih" around on three legs and after the second unsuccess- 
ful attempt, leaping up on my bed. 

“I was amazed. Was that m3" Spangle? Spangle, 
who 3"esterda3", covered with dust and dirt, looked like a 
walking piece of mang3" fur, reminding one of Hamlet’s 
‘rugged Pyrrhus, smeared with heraldry more dismal — 
o’er-sized with gore.’ — He pranced around on the counter- 
pane all washed and combed, curled and adorned, the 
picture of cleanliness and attentive care, like one of those 


THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 35 

shepherd dogs painted b}' Watteau, like the curled darling 
of some Marquise. 

“ He was perfectly well aware of the improvement in 
his appearance and manifested his delight by cutting up 
all sorts of frolics and tricks on my bed. 

“ I could not conceal my surprise, and as I myself saw 
everything rose-colored that morning, waking up between 
a pair of white sheets for the first time after so many long 
weeks, I asked him, paraphrasing the well-known tune : 

“ Wer hat dich du schcener Hurid 
Anfgeputzt so hoch da drohen? " 

‘‘ The adornment ‘ way up there ’ was not a mere figure 
of speech. Spangle had a narrow blue ribbon braided into 
his gray and brown top-knot, and the pointed ends of the 
ribbon stood up coquettishly above his ears. There was 
both thoughtfulness and taste in this coiffure. Some one 
must have taken time and pains to have the unrulj^ little 
fellow present himself in this guise. 

“And as I had nothing better to do I fell to medi- 
tating myself on the cix-cumstance. I did not have to rack 
my brains to discover who it could have been that had 
attended to the Captain’s dog with such care. This kind 
and delicate way of giving expression, b}’ the labor of her 
hands, to the gratitude she could not force her lips to utter, 
struck me as something unusually graceful. And when 
my mind doubted whether after all it had been onlj^ her 
general liking for cleanliness in those about the house, 
without any special personal significance, that had resulted 
so favorably for Spangle, I thought of an old saying 
Altenhofer used to quote from some oriental writer: ‘ You 
caress my dog, hence you want to insinuate yourself inta 
my good graces.’ 

“ Such idle meditations are dangerous to the heart. 

“ And neither was it my intention to linger upon them. 


36 THE FORTUNES AND PATE OP LITTLE SPANGLE, 

“ When I started to divide my breakfast with my little 
dog according to custom, he rejected ever}^ morsel, even 
the usually so highly prized lump of sugar, with a disdain- 
ful sniff. ‘ So 3 ’ou are not only bathed and curled, but you 
are full too, “chuck-full,” as we used to say! Really, 
your little stomach is as full as a nut ! Fie on you, little 
sybarite I ’ 

“ After I had lavished upon my own self almost as 
much attention as fairer hands had bestowed upon my dog, 
what could be more natural than that, as I saw Nicolette 
in the garden, I should go out to thank her. 

“ 1 had onl}^ to follow Spangle who had dashed fran- 
tically away on the trail of his benefactress. 

“ So those pale cheeks could blush too ! 

“It was veiy becoming to her. And as she stood 
thus in front of me, in a light-colored, close-fitting dress, 
her head slighth’- turned to one side at my address, the 
tendrils of a vine in her hand as a pla 3 dhing to conceal her 
embarrassment, she seemed veiy fair to my eyes. 

“ I was still sufficient!}' master of m}^ heart to say to 
myself that those sharp features were not beautiful. But 
the charm of gracefulness that enveloped her whole being 
fascinated me to such a degree that I loved to linger by 
her side and learned graduall}' to admire that which had 
at first repelled me in the daughter of my host. 

“ It was in vain I said to m^^self that my heart was 
merel}’ hungr}', that for more than three months I had 
seen nothing but coarse peasant women with wooden shoes 
or bare feet, that the luxury which surrounded me here 
and made me feel so much at home after so many priva- 
tions and hardships, was enervating to me, and that the 
certain prospect of being ordered awa}' from this oasis in 
a few days was exciting all my senses. I said much more 
of this to myself. It is an idle task to dissect the motives 


THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 37 

of one’s feelings. If you have a bad tooth-ache, what 
good does it do you to reckon up the causes to which it is 
due ; it aches just as badly. And it is just the same way 
with the heart. 

“ And to shorten ray story. Gently, gradually, I fell 
in love with my host’s little daughter, until I was entirely 
carried away with my quiet, consuming love. 

“I would not believe it myself, at first. I was cross 
and reserved and dissatisfied with everything. The old 
gentleman had not returned on the third day. But he 
wrote a letter telling his daughter to la}^ aside all her fears 
for him. He was at liberty and only remained in Nancy 
to obtain more favorable terms for his village, which he 
found had a bad reputation among the Germans. He was 
suflTering much from this separation but it was for the wel- 
fare of his towns-people. He owed his liberty next to his 
own decision of character, to the favorable testimony of 
the officer quartered in his house. Nicolette must thank 
me for him. He knew that she was safe in the hands of 
an honorable gentleman, even if he was an enemy. 

“Then she did thank me in w^ords. I candidly re- 
jected all her thanks. The old fool owed as little to my 
testimony as to his personal efforts ; but he had to pla}'^ 
his role, as he saw the cross with its red ribbon beckoning 
to him from afar as his final reward. "When at last he did 
come home again, he walked around the house and the 
village more pompous than ever, and told everybody what 
grand things he had done and said, and what perils he had 
just barely escaped and what benefits he had brought back 
home to his towns-people. 

“ I don't know how much of all this was true. I only 
know that in consequence of his heroism he was home but 
little and that after his return I was alone with Nicolette 
even oftener than before. The reserve that before this 


38 THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 

seemed a matter of duty to each of us, was laid aside. W e 
had grown accustomed to each other, living in the same 
house, and when any other excuse for an interview at any 
moment failed to present itself. Spangle managed in an 
unsolicited way to procure for me all sorts of welcome 
opportunities. 

“I strolled for hours with Nicolette in the garden, I 
helped her around the house and spent the evenings in 
conversation with her. The time flew, I knew not how. 

“ I scolded mj'self well for m3" foil}' at times. Then 
I would stroll through the village, and everywhere I would 
find the same scenes. The hatred of the enem}" and con- 
queror was not smothered by any means, but as the}" all 
had to live together, it assumed a more friendl}' form, at 
least among the common people, the severe necessities of 
their dail}" life not allowing them either time or inclination 
to make those sacrifices to sentiment upon which the 
higher classes shed all the light of publicit}" possible. 

“ As 1 strolled through the streets I found that our 
men were already making themselves useful to the families 
with whom the}" were quartered, parti}- owing to their 
innate good nature, and partly to ennui. I would come 
across one chopping wood, another carrying some little 
LoiT’aine baby in his arms, and then some Frenchwoman 
would be darning German socks, while a couple of the 
enemy would be pushing a cart into the barn. 

“In France no one concedes anything of the kind prob- 
ably, and afterwards, farther in the interior, it was worse 
yet, but at that time it was just as I am telling you. The 
hatred was still blazing on both sides, but every one 
thought after Sedan that the war was at an end, and in 
spite of all, there was the common bond of humanity be- 
tween them after all. 

“ Especially in those days did things seem this way to 


THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 39 

me. And if you ask me upon my honor what w'as the 
condition of Nicolette’s heart, I should reply — ^just about 
the same as mine. 

“ She Avas a kind-hearted, honest little creature. She 
had only been taken away from her boarding-school, the 
‘Sacred Heart,’ a few days after the battle of Sedan. With 
the exception of her relatives, I was the first man to whom 
she had spoken since then. 

“ She hated me as an enemy and oppressor, but love 
kindles quicker from hatred than from indifterence. And 
as she i»ad hated the German as a monster and a sav- 
age according to exaggerated descriptions, one prejudice 
after another quietly vanished from her mind, as she 
found that I was kind-hearted and genial, and the sup- 
posed barbarian became more and more a pleasant com- 
panion in her young eyes. 

“Our weapons indeed lay close at hand, and the 
tumult and commotion of war were still sufficiently percei> 
tible in this more quiet nook to keep us from ever for- 
getting how inflexible our duty was, how sad our life, and 
how hopeless our love. 

“Yes indeed, she loved me. She did not confess it, 
but I saw it, I heard it, I felt it. She suffered from her 
love, but in spite of her sufferings she kept on loving me. 

“How true it is, that hatred and prejudice aroused 
and cherished at such a time, have the heads of a hydra. 
Love can cut off as m'any of these dragon heads as it 
chooses during the day time, at night new ones grow to 
replace them. • 

“My sentiment for Nicolette was simple and salutaiy. 
One becomes rude so soon in war. A man of a kind dis- 
position and training is conscious^ of this and regrets it, 
and when he encounters some gentler sentiment in the 


40 THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 

midst of it all, he is grateful to his fate. So I did not feel 
like restricting the tender influences of those hours. 

“But poor little Nicolette not only loved me, she 
hated me as well. And I reall}’ believe she did not know 
which sentiment was the most powerful in her heart until 
the moment came that decided eveiy thing. 

“ Spangle was the one that had the best of it all. He 
reaped the benefit of all the blithe ideas that love alone 
puts into the mind of a demure little maiden, and no patri- 
otic hatred cast its shadow upon these ideas where the dog 
was concerned, as he spoke no language at all and allowed 
himself to be petted in an}’ language. 

“He grew round and dainty, he was as particular 
about his food as any spoiled old village parson, not a 
speck of dust was allowed on his coat, his hair shone like 
a dandy’s, and the ribbon in his top-knot was of a different 
color every day in the week. 

“He knew well to whom he owed all these favors, 
and Spangle was never seen any more without Nicolette, 
nor the girl any more without the dog. 

“We two others were ‘yearning and burning in tor- 
ment ne’er ending,’ but the little terrier was in clover. 

“One evening I noticed that my man Caspar was 
going around with a flushed face, protruding eyes and 
clenched fists. 

‘“What has happened?’ I asked. 

“ ‘ Disgraceful things are going on ! ’ he cried almost 
louder than the regulations allowed, and when I tried to 
get more out of him, he would not say anything, as if he 
did not consider me impartial enough to listen to him. 
He sneaked out too as soon as he could, but he looked like 
a man who would not go out of his way to avoid a quarrel. 

“ I observed my host. He was parading around with 
his nose up in the air, humming a tune, his hands thrust 


THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 41 

deep into his broad velvet trousers. The other villagers 
too were sticking up their noses rather higher than usual. 
It was not difficult to deduce from all this that some false 
report had turned their heads. Bazaine, the victorious 
hero, had sallied forth again from Metz and had almost 
annihilated the German arm}^ on its wa}' to Paris. But 
what was most remarkable was that the handful of us here 
had not been slaughtered also. We did not pay any atten- 
tion to this wonderful story. But the French swallowed it 
as usual. 

“Nicolette believed the false report also. She came 
into my room with head erect and even some compassion 
in her glance. I believe she was going to advise me in all 
seriousness to seek safet}' in flight. She soon saw that I 
was not taken in by the hoax, and she became pensive 
and silent, undecided whom she should believe. She 
sighed. That was proper in any case. 

“ ‘ iNIy dear little girl,’ I said, ‘ however fate may de- 
cide, I shall soon bid 3'ou good b3’e. But most certainl3' 
not to leave for home.’ 

“‘And what if 3'ou never see 3’our home again?’ she 
raournfull3" asked. 

“ I smiled and said in a cheerful tone : ‘ Perhaps in 
that case a prett3' French girl whom I have learned to love 
will lay a wreath of immortelles on the stranger’s grave.’ 

“ Her eyes fllled with tears and she gazed fixedly at 
me even after they began to flow down her cheeks. At 
last she said ; 

“‘I should be ver3' S01T3’ to hear of 3*our death.’ 

“I took her hand and as she did not object to this, I 
observed that in the meanwhile I rejoiced in being alive. 
And to prove it, I kissed her hand several times until she 
suddenl}" drew it awa3'. 

“ ‘ Did 3’ou leave a fiancee at home? ’ she asked. And 


42 THE FORTUNES AND FATE OP LITTLE SPANGLE. 

as I said no to this — which was the truth — she blushed 
deep!}', her lips quivered and — wdth cheeks ablaze, she ran 
out of the room. 

“ By the next evening the villagers were more reason- 
able. My host lay on his sofa and tried again — vainly as 
before — to tear his closely cropped hair. Every one that 
spoke French in the place went around as if he had been 
knocked on the head. Beall}', T never saw a case of more 
complete disappointment. We Germans gave a sigh of 
relief — Metz had fallen. The Napoleonic legend was at an 
end. The false report about Bazaine turned to a national 
disgrace. 

“Spangle appeared at my bed-side the following 
morning with a black ribbon. I could not help laughing 
aloud. ‘Have you gone over to the enemy? ’ I asked him, 
and I cut off the ribbon and with it the lock of shaggy 
hair on the dog’s head. He did not seem to take it amiss, 
and enjoyed life more than ever after it. 

“ I was not much at home that day. The latest bulle- 
tins which came in one after the other kept us in a crowd 
at the depot. What rejoicings there w^ere ! Even my own 
heart rejoiced with the rest. I was enough of a soldier not 
to allow myself to be vexed with the certainty that this 
day or the next would bring orders for us to march on into 
the interior. We were all to go forward to fall into the 
besieging line around Paris. On to Paris, — Hurrah ! 

“I did not think of much beside this — I did not want 
to think of anything else. Only when afterwards I saw 
the slender little figure walking around in the house and 
the garden, with head bowed down as if the w’eight of her 
raven tresses or her silent thoughts were too heavy for her, 
did it flash upon me with wonderful distinctness, that I 
had never ceased pondering and deliberating day or night, 


THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 43 

but that, half unconsciousl}", I had been adjusting various 
things in m3’ mind. 

“ I packed my little trunk. We had not 3’et received 
an}’ order to proceed. But how long might this last. I 
wanted to be read}^ Who knew what the last hours 
might bring. 

“In the midst of this task I saw Nicolette in the gar- 
den. It would not have been polite to call the girl, so I 
whistled to m}’ dog. And as Spangle hesitated as if willing 
to obe}’, but still loath to leave his companion, and also as 
she saw how I was occupied, she }’ielded. She came 
towards me, but onl}’ as if to save Spangle a scolding. 

“‘Can I help 3’ou, Monsieur le Capitaine?’ she asked. 

‘“Sta}' with me, that is the best help.’ 

‘“Wh}’ are }’0u packing 3’our trunk? Have 3^11 re- 
ceived 3’our marching orders? ’ 

“ ‘ Not yet. But they ma}’ come an}’ hour.’ 

“She sat down and sank into a reverie. I stopped in 
m}’ task and gazed at her attentively. I said to myself 
again what I had so often told m3’self during these w’eeks. 
She was not exactl}’ homely, she was not exactly beautiful ; 
she was peculiar and different from all other girls I had 
ever seen ; she was graceful in all her movements, with 
exquisite taste in everything she did or left undone — the 
c/iic of the Frenchwoman. And besides all this a 103'al 
little heart that dearl}’ loved me. 

“Glancing up out of her reverie, she suddenl}’ 
exclaimed: ‘It is really hard, this sa3’ing farewell for 
ever ! ’ 

“ ‘ It is dut}’ ! ’ was m3’ reply. ‘ And in our profession 
we learn to do our dut}’ with pleasure.’ 

“ ‘ I am not enough of a soldier for that ! ’ she rejoined 
with smiling lips and a mournful glance. Then she arose 
and helped me fold my small stock of linen. 


44 THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE S]>AN(JLE. 

“ Where shall 3'ou go now? ’ 

“ ‘ I do not know. . . . wherever 1 am ordered.’ 

“ ‘ On to Paris ! ’ she murmured, concealing a tear that 
she could not control. 

“ ‘ Will you think ol’ me when 1 am far away? ’ J asked. 
She did not reply. After quite a while she turned her 
head and gazing straight into my eyes she added : • Et 

vousf ' 

‘••1, Nieolette. 1 shall think of you wherever T am, 
and I hope that the time is not far distant when you will 
be at my side again, wherever T ma}’ be, and not to say 
farewell either ! ’ 

“ ‘ Sir, what do you mean? ’ exclaimed the little French- 
woman, as she shrunk awa}', l)ut I had seized her hand 
across the trunk and 1 drew the slender maiden gentlv 
towards me. She offered hardly any resistance. 

‘“My sweet little enemy,’ I said. ‘I mean that I love 
you dearl}*. And you? ’ 

“ Nieolette did not utter a word in reply. Onl}' after 
a little pause for reflection she shook her head in denial. 
But as she did this T wound my arm around her waist and 
thus it happened that the obstinate little head was resting 
against my breast. I lifted her chin with one of my 
fingers and looked into the eyes of the clinging little 
figure. She could not compel her eyes to be false. As 
they looked long and tenderly into mine the lips began to 
smile, and as she nestled more fondly against me. she 
wound her arms around my neck and we kissed each other 
for the first time, and kissed again and again, from the 
depths of our hearts. 

“Then all of a sudden Nieolette started in my em- 
brace. I listened. Some one was singing in the garden. 


THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANOLE. 45 

She extricated herself. I listened more attentively. A 
masculine voice was humming the Marseillaise. 

'■ Lp jour de gloirc est arrive. . . . ’ 
was distinctly audible ; then it was lost in the garden. 

“ The blood rushed to m3’ head. ‘ That is Fi’ancois’ 
voice ! ’ I cried, and seizing m3’ revolver that was 13’ing be- 
side my trunk, I cocked it and flung open the window. 

“ The singing still continued up behind the bean poles. 
Nicolette clung to 1113’ arm, until I felt her whole weight, 
crying imploringly ; ‘ But no. It is not Francois .... It is 
my lathei*’s voice ! . . . . Thou shalt not kill, that thou shalt 
not be killed thyself !....’ 

“I laid the weapon on the table. What did I care 
for Francois ! But m3’ auger had been aroused. And 
hardl3’ half appeased, I turned around to the trembling 
girl : ‘Nicolette, let us have a serious talk. The shot that 
is destined for me, ma3’ reach me soon, perhaps this veiy 
da3’. Let it come ! The war has already stricken down 
man3’ a better man. I am a soldier ! But “not eveiy ball 
kills its man,” as the Gennan song sa3’s. This slaughter 
and carnage between the two most highly civilized nations 
on the continent can not last forever. Peace will be pro- 
claimed sooner or later. Ma3’ I come back to you then, 
Nicolette, if I am still alive? ’ 

“She glanced up with a shadow in her e3’es, convul- 
siveh’ clenching her hands, and whispered : ‘ A quoi cela 

meuprait-ilf' just as a German girl would have said: 
‘ Where would it lead to? ’ 

'“Little goose!’ I cried, ‘to my taking 3’ou home 
with me as m3’ dear little wife ! ’ 

“ She sci’eamed. ‘ T ! . . . . Your ! . . . . Never ! ’ 
“‘Tb^o».s', voyons!' I rejoined, drawing the resisting 
little flgure again into m3' arms and secretl3’ cursing the 
singing that was again audible from the garden. But I 


46 THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 

drowned it in my flowing sentences as I enthusiasticall}* 
described my home and my happiness with her by my side. 

“ She turned and struggled, and when I would not let 
her go, she clasped her hands in passionate abandon over 
her eyes, crying : ‘ Oh, I am a wretch ! a disgrace to my 

people ! . . . . Let me go ! Or must you have me tell you 
that I love yon ! Well then, listen to it ! I love 5’ou like 
a crazy girl, like a bewitched girl. But I am a French 
girl in spite of it all. And if I loved you a thousand 
times more, I would rather fall dead right here and never 
see m3’ father and 1113’ countiy again, than to go with 3^011 
to 3’our horrible countr3’ and sit at 3 0ur fireside, an object 
of scorn to strangers and an abomination to 1113^ friends ! ’ 

“ H3’ ! how shrill the girl’s voice rang out. I loved 
to listen to her. I had never admired her so much as at 
that moment when ever3’ fibre in her was convulsively 
twitching and her flashing eyes were riveted upon me as if 
the3' would scoreh and consume me. 

“ But Spangle, disturbed b3' this violent talking out of 
his finest digesting snooze, jumped up in alarm, and sprang 
towards the angrv girl, hopping on his four paws, barking, 
and eveiT hair on his bod3' standing erect. 

“Neither of us paid aiy' attention to the dog ! Nico- 
lette least of all. The long suppressed vehemence of her 
nature had at last forced its wa3’ to the surface, the sound 
of her own voice intoxicated her, and even louder than be- 
fore, to drown the little dog’s barking, she continued : ‘ I, 
3’our wife ! But, God forgive me, anything rather than the 
wife of a Prussian ! Don’t 3’ou know who 3’ou are, who 
you always must be to me?. . . .You monster, 3’Ou butcher, 
3’OU incendiaiy of Bazeilles ! ’ 

“The decisive word had been spoken. — ‘I hope to 
stand before God at the Judgment Da3’ because I did m3’ 


THE FORTUNES AND PATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. i7 

duty faithfully at the time of the greatest need,’ I replied. 
‘It is not for you to judge ! ’ 

“And I would not let her go. I wanted to compel 
love to vanquish hatred in her. I tried to kiss Nicolette 
again and soothe her with caresses. The frantic girl, how- 
ever, pulled and tugged and twisted. I did not want to 
hurt her, but I would not let her go. Struggling thus she 
came near the table. And Spangle who had got it into his 
head by this time that we were romping, wanted to have 
his share of the fun, and leaping up furiously, seized Nico- 
lette’s skirts bj’ the train and tugged and tugged away as 
if he wanted to pull his teeth out by the roots. 

“ ‘ Ah, it’s you, is it ! ’ the panting girl cried to the 
dog. ‘ All right then ! There ! ’ 

“ And a shot went off close beside my hand. I saw 
my revolver in Nicolette’s hands, I snatched it from her 
the next instant, and we both stood gazing at poor little 
Spangle who was twisting and tumbling in agony, on the 
blood-covered floor. 

“The poor dog was not mortally wounded. He 
raised his head towards us with a gesture of agony, as if 
he wanted to speak and say : ‘ Oh you human beings, 
what wretches you are ! We poor creatures look upon you 
as demigods of Justice and kindness and we love you with 
all our might, and cling to you with a fidelity of which 
you can form no conception. And you treat us spitefully, 

meanly, horribly, in return, like this ! like this ! And 

mj' master looks on and allows it, even he ! ’ 

“ I pitied the poor little creature. Another shot went 
off. Little Spangle’s sufferings Avere at an end. Dogs 
have that one privilege, that they can be put out of their 
misery. 

“ Blood, splintered bones and scattered brains — some 
adhered here and there to Nicolette’s skirts. It made me 


48 THE FOllTL-NES AND FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 

shiulder. 1 threw the weapon down. The girl was lying 
on the sofa ; she was shaking as if in a chill. I did not 
turn towards her but rang for my attendant. 

“Caspar entered as if he had been standing outside 
the door. T looked at him and he looked at me as if he 
had known long ago what had happened. He took a towel 
out of the trunk, spread it out on the floor and collected 
in it all that remained of poor little Spangle. 

“Noiselessh' the morose woodsman did all that was 
necessar}-, and as he finally' took the towel up by the cor- 
ners, he quoted defiantly as if to himself : 

‘ Dear fatherland, canst tranquil be ! ' 
and went out. 

“1 did not know exactly what he meant, and I looked 
after him as he took Francois’ spade on his shoulder, and 
with the towel in his left hand, walked past the house 
toward the garden. 

“For a moment 1 seemed to be in a trance. Every- 
thing grew red before my eyes, red and black. I saw 
Caspar — not as T had just seen him — but with blackened 
face, rolled up sleeves and hairy arms, his bayonet knife 
between his teeth, in dust, smoke and gore, the hewing 
woodsman, the avenger of his brothers, the Hero of 
Bazeilles ! 

“ It was only for a moment. Then I seized my sword 
and cap and ran, without looking once behind me. 

“Where I went, I have no longer an}' recollection. 
When I came home again, I did not go first to my room 
but into the garden. 

“ T have never been especially inclined to sentimental- 
ity at any time of my life, and in those days even less than 
usual. Any one passing through what we were passing 
through at that time, going to meet such chances as were 
hovering before us then, can not take the loss of a little 


THE FORTUNES ANT) FATE OF LITTLE SPANGLE. 40 

_ terrier veiy deepl}^ to heart, even though it had been a loj-al 
and cunning little creature. 

“And yet however 1 believe I said before that 

when I got home I went first into the garden and looked 
around to see what Caspar had done. As the man noticed 
me while quite a way off, he flung his spade on his shoul- 
der again and went around me across the bed in a half 
circle so as not to be obliged to look at or speak to me. 
The man from the wildwoods, who suffered all the while 
from homesickness and ennui had lost in the droll little 
fellow his dumb plaT’thing and comrade. 

“T did not have long to seek. Something drew me to 
the same spot where the earthen jar with the mail casket 
had been dug up the week before. In the very same hole 
which he had found still open. Caspar had laid the dead 
little Spangle and thrown up the dirt above him into a 
P3’ramidical mound, and set up a broad smoothed-off piece 
of wood on to}). 

“ I saw that something was written on it. I stooped 
down, as it was twilight, and read in rude letters the 
inscription : 

‘HERE LIES BURIED THE DOG.’ 

“ It grew dark and cool. I left the garden in a mecli- 
tative mood. 

“Of what importance is the life of a dog ! 

“We can say too — of what importance is the happi- 
ness of a human being ! 

“That very same night came the order to proceed. 
As I led my company to the depot I had to pass by the 
house of my late host. The blinds were open in one 
window on the first floor. I saw Nicolette standing in the 
opening, pale and immovable as the statue of a woman, 
her arms folded upon her bosom as if to hold down her 


50 THE FORTUNES AND FATE OF LITTLE SFANGLE. 

heart. She did not beckon, she did not stir, and it did not 
occur to me to turn my head. 

“ We took our places in the iron ring that encircled 
Paris. I chased away all oppressive thoughts. Novelty 
has a powerful influence on a 3 'earning heart. There was 
plent}" of work. A week later the\’ carried me wounded 
out of the fier}' rain. I do not need to assure you that I 
did not ‘court death’ — as the}' say — by any means. I got 
my ball fairly just like all the rest who have no thoughts 
for anything but their duty and honor at such moments. 
1 had hardly thought once of Nicolette since we had left 
Lorraine; I had forbidden myself to think of her, and 
when, in spite of this the girl came into my mind, a kind 
of fury would take possession of me, as if I wanted to fight 
my way to her, God forgive me ! 

“My Caspar was silently engaged about my cot. 
Ever since Spangle’s burial he had ‘made a face,’ that is, 
never showed a cheerful countenance. 

“ When accidentally on the march or in a battle, my 
eye had met his, I found a severe almost revengeful glance 
directed upon me from beneath his bushy blonde eye- 
brows. More than once I was obliged to notice that he 
kept a watch on every one of my movements. It seemed 
to me as if in the eyes of this common private his Captain 
had been ‘undeified.’ In silence the fellow held this 
strange secret court of justice over me, and he was the 
man not only to pass judgment, but to enforce single- 
handed the sentence he had pronounced upon me. 

“ It struck me as very comical, and I did not argue 
with him. And then, I got off very easily. As I lay there 
and suffered and the ugly little room seemed to be going 
round and round with me, I noticed that Caspar apolo- 
gized to me in his secret thoughts for much — for much, 
but not for all. 


THE FORTUNES AND PATE OP LITTLE SPANGLE. 51 

“ He took good and faithful care of me. 

“ And when I could control better ni^' senses, and I 
lay there so still and the tramp of the regiments came up 
from the street below, and from the distance the music of 
the heavy artillery supplied their grand bass to my 
thoughts, then I began to think of all sorts of things in 
the days that were past. Then I thought of Nicolette 
again. 

“ And it was gently and kindly that I thought of her. 
And I pondered upon the reason of her acting just so and 
not otherwise, the compulsion of fate and of her own 
senses. And I was obliged to come to the conclusion that 
she had defended herself lo^’alh' and bravel}', and that she 
had done right, from her point of view, to draw between 
the stranger, in regard to whom she could not entirely 
eradicate the old hatred, and her own longing heart, that 
bloody line across which neither could go to the other, 
even if the line was only drawn with the blood of a dog. 

“ Poor little Spangle, it was hard on you, it is true. 
But what would have become of you later, in the winter 
campaign, and those horrible days around Orleans ! 

“ But still it Avas too bad that two good people who 
ought to have made each other happy, were obliged to 
separate from each other so cruellj’. And there were still 
many hours when I would ask myself whether it was really 
necessary, and whether Nicolette had really been in love 
with me. I alwa3’s saw her again as that last night in the 
AvindoAV. That last view stood out grim and cruel in my 
memory. 

“One daj^ Caspar laid a sheet of paper on mv bed. 
It was a shin^' sheet of paper, square with a lace-like edge, 
with a prayer printed on it — such as are given to children 
in sehools and churches. 


52 


THE FORTUNES AND FATE OP LTTTLE SPANGLE. 


‘ What’s that? ' I asked him. 

“ ‘ How should I know ! ’ lie replied. ‘ T don’t under- 
stand the French lingo. 1 found it among your linen. So 
it must belong to yon, Captain.’ 

“I picked it up and read it. It was the Lord’s 
Prayer in French. A couple of lines were delicately 
Imt clearly underscored : 

And forgive ns our trespasses as we forgive 
‘ Those who trespass against ns.' 

“1 read and read it over again until my eyes were full 
of tears. I was still weak and sick then, and T was not 
angry at the little tear that ran down my weather-beaten 
cheek and over my bare neck. 

‘‘I kept the little sheet of paper under m3' pillow as 
long as I was sick. T wore it in my breast pocket as soon 
as I got into harness again. I wore it like an amulet, and 
it was, the blessed inspiration of a heart sweet and lovel\' 
as a little child’s, — I wore it in the second slaughter 
around Orleans, in the battles at the gates of Paris, in the 
grand struggle at Le 5 Ians. I had it in 1113' pocket when 
as conquerors, we marched into our rejoicing native citv. 

“ More than once in those dreadful days, I repeated 
the Lord’s Pra3 er silenth’ to m3'self, and that one petition, 
the one that was underlined, alwa3's in French, 

“The (rod of Victoiy ma3' have been — as T was read- 
ing lately in some comical poem — a ‘German himself,’ 
but if so, I believe that my Lord understood me, and that 
he did not score this little sin against an honest soldier. 

“Nicolette T have never seen since; but I have 
thought of her often. 

“We’ve had peace a long while now. Thank God! 
5 Iy thoughts often drift across the Rhine. French-Lorraine 
is a lovelv land. And if the notion to travel ever seizes 


THE FORTrXES AND FATE OF 1,ITTLE SPANC4EE. 


me again, who knows, perhaps my way will lead through 
Nancy. Tf it does T shall go to see whether she is still 
living in the old house and — of coui’se — I shall not over- 
look the spot either where — ‘the dog lies buried.’ 







AGAINST THE STREAM. 

[From the German of Ernst Eckstein.] 


Copy R n 


, 1885, BY 1,. SCHICK, 


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XUTE 15V THE TRANSLATOR. 


Jerome Bonaparte has an especial interest for Ameri- 
cans, as his first wife was a Miss Patterson of Baltimore, and he was 
thus one of the first to set the present fashion of “ marrying an Ameri- 
can girl.” As the youngest brother of Napoleon the Great, he grew 
to manhood in the full blaze of the latter’s successes, and from gen- 
eral, marshal and prince, he was finally promoted to be King of 
Westphalia. Handsome and fond of pleasure, he did not take life as 
seriously as the rest of the family, but when disaster overtook them 
he displayed fairly creditable qualities, and after the battle of Water- 
loo, Napoleon said to him : “ My brother, I have learned to know 

you too late.” He lived in retirement after this until his nephew re- 
established the Empire and created him marshal and prince once 
more. He died in state at the Invalides. He was only nineteen 
when he married Miss Patterson, and as his family would not counte 
nance the match, but insisted upon a divorce without ever seeing the 
fair bride of a year or so, he was bribed and bullied into yielding. 
Miss Patterson’s letters, recently published, reveal the fact that she 
married young Bonaparte solely to obtain rank and wealth, and as 
his divorce was secured for the same purpose, no sentiment need be 
wasted on the Baltimore romance. One son, named after his father, 
was born of this union, and the mother’s subsequent career in 
European society was quite brilliant, as her beauty, wit and brief 
alliance with the Bonapartes gave her the entree to the highest cir- 
cles. The palace, “ Wilhelmshohe,” the scene of the present story, 
was also the scene of Louis Napoleon’s captivity, after the Franco- 
Prussian war. 

* * 

* 

P I G A u L T L E B R u .N was quite well known in his day as the 
author of a large number of popular novels and plays. His life was 
full of incidents, as he was disowned and even imprisoned twice for a 
couple of years by his father, a stern and strict gentleman of Calais, 
who regarded his son’s versatility and heedless follies as crimes of the 
deepest dye. Thrown upon his own resources, Pigault tried every 
known means of supporting himself, with varying success, but was 
always a favorite with all who knew him. His friendshij^ with 
Jerome was of long standing, even before the latter’s accession to the 
throne of Westphalia, and in one of his novels, “ L’Heureux Jerome,” 
he borrowed the name of his friend for his hero. 


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7 


It was in August, in the year 1810. 

Tlie refreshing coolness of evening floated in through 
tlie windows of the royal palace wdiich were all wide open. 
In one of the upper corner rooms, Jerome, the fortunate 
sovereign of the kingdom of Westphalia was seated, look- 
ing across to his fair capital, the cit}^ of Cassel, whose 
steeples and towers were basking in the golden splendor 
of the parting da}'. 

He was no dreamer, as a usual thing — this little 
brother of the great conqueror. This day, however, the 
enchanting landscape that lay spread out before him in 
dazzling magnificence, seemed to produce a sti-ange im- 
pression upon his kingly mind. Lost in a reverie, he was 
leaning his head against the sloping back of his luxurious 
arm-chair. His hands crossed on his stomach, his feet 
stretched out in front of him upon an elastic footstool, he 
looked, reclining there, like the personification of dolce far 
niente, the incarnation of the Epicurean life principles, a 
prince after God’s own heart. And yet a slight shadow of 
grief rested upon those placid features, a remote hint of 
some mental disturbance, a suspicion of the blues, strangely 
in contrast with the surpassing loveliness of the near and 
distant scenery. 


6 


AGAINST THE STREAM. 


Suddenlj' a profound sigh escaped from the King’s 
breast. 

“What has Your Majesty to command?” sounded 
from the rear of the apartment. 

Jerome turned his head imperceptibly. 

“Nothing, dear Pigault” he stammered; “I was 

onl}' thinking,”. .. . , 

PigaultLebrun, the Librarian and Keader to the King, 
who had remained in modest retirement up to this moment 
in order not to disturb the meditations — pursuant upon 
his digestion — of his lord and master, approached a few 
steps nearer. 

He had a right to venture this much, for no one at 
court enjoyed Jerome’s confidence to such an extent as he. 
There was no library in existence ; the king disliked to 
listen to any one reading aloud — hence PigaultrLebrun’s 
office was a sinecure, and he devoted the twenty-four hours 
of leisure at his disposal every day, after deducting six 
hours for sleep, to the interests of his sovereign’s en- 
tertainment, exclusively. All the open air festivities, 
fireworks, balls, banquets, musical entertainments, love 
adventures, in short, all the responsibilities of govern- 
ment at the Westphalian Court were under his sole and 
immediate supervision, and as he had developed an incom- 
parable genius for social pleasures, Jerome had bestowed 
upon him the entire treasure of his royal affections. 

So Pigault-Lebrun stepped forward and observed in a 
melodious voice: 

“ Ah, Sire, you are pensive? Can any one have been 
so unfortunate as to arouse Your Majesty’s displeasure? ” 

His Majesty shook his head. 

“No, Pigault,” he replied slowly; “I am satisfied 
with you and all my loyal subjects but. . .you see. . . ” 

He hesitated and stopped. 


AGAINST THE STREAM. 


Pigault-Lebrun advanced a few steps farther forward. 
He was then in a position where he could look the king in 
the face. The peculiar veil of melancholy that rested on 
those features — usually so serene — affected him painfully. 

“ Your Majesty is out of sorts,” he remarked in a tone 
full of concern. “Did Your Majesty not find the table 
quite satisfaetor}’ today? I will attend to the dismissal 
of the chief cook right away.” 

“ Not for the world ! ” Jerome murmured. My cooks 
are masters of their art, and if etiquette did not stand in 
the way, I would raise the whole of them to the hereditary 
peerage. ...” 

“Then the Queen must have been making 3*011 a 
scene?. . . .Ah, Sire, I am sure. . . .the Queen. . . .1 know 
Her Majest3’’s jealous disposition. ...” 

“You are mistaken, m3* friend !.... Since the Em- 
peror, our severe brother, took that little Helene awa3* by 
force, the Queen has been reconciled with me. She has no 
longer the slightest suspicion, thanks to our precautions . . . 
Ah, that was a mean trick on my noble brother's part ! ” 

“I dare not venture to contradict 3*011, Sire. But, just 
consider, etiquette ! You are the king, you must at least 
keep up the appearance of it. That little woman had com- 
pletely supplanted 3*011 The whole Court was at her 

feet and 3'our legitimate consort had withdrawn com- 
pletel3* to private life. . . .The Emperor is b3* no means a 
paragon of virtue himself, but he still takes good care not 
to scandalize society if 3*011 will pardon the term ” 

The King’s countenance had grown gloomier and 
more passionate at each one of his confidant’s words. 
He leaned his head on his hand and gazed into vacancy 
for a moment. 

“ Pigaiilt,” he said at last, “ Let us be sincere ! What 


8 


AGAINST THE STREAM. 


do you think of the relations between me and my imperial 
brother? ” 

“ That question is difficult to answer, Sire,” was the 
Librarian’s reply. 

“ Don’t beat about the bush, my friend Hold up 

for once on that tiresome jabber of Sire and Majesty and 

speak right out You see, as I was looking out over this 

beautiful land that I could call my own, if only if 

well, if it were mine .... ” 

“I do not understand you ; are you not the king? ” 

A bitter smile hovered around Jerome’s lips. 

“King!” he repeated after him scornfully. “Yes, 
King like the king in chess, a puppet who can be check- 
mated by ail}" whim that happens to take the fancy of a 
higher power ! ” 

“ How do you mean, Sire? ” stammered Pigault- 
Lebrun. 

Jerome made a movement expressive of displeasure. 

“Pigault,” he said, “please don’t make yourself out 
more of a fool than you are. You want to spare me. You 
are afraid of wounding my vanity. That is all right when 
we are surrounded by our courtiers. But here dissimula- 
tion is superfluous. I request your opinion, and that too 
without any reservations, do 3"Ou hear? ” 

“ At your command. Sire. Ask your questions ! ” 

“You know,” the King resumed, “that in spite of all 
my sovereignty, I am onl}' the wretched slave of m3' 
brother. ...” 

“ Oh, Sire ! ” 

“But, I will confess it candidly to 3'ou. . . .1 am be- 
ginning to grow tired of the farce. Matters have gone 
prett3" far when that .... that t3^rant takes it upon himself 
to interfere in my private affairs 1 am firmly resolved 


AGAINST THE STREAM. 9 

to set some eclatant example at the very first opportunity 
.... Can I depend upon your support? ” 

“Your Majesty can always dispose of me at any 
time,” was Pigault’s diplomatic reply. 

“ What do 3’ou think, for instance, of my sending the 
Prince of Paderborn to the devil forthwith. The fellow 
bores me to death and more than I can express, with his 
everlasting prating about the condition of the Church 
and the Clergy — and the affair would savor strongly of 
independence ! ” 

“ But the consequences ! ” 

The King smote himself defiantly on the breast. 

“Bah !” he rejoined, “the Emperor will accommodate 
himself to circumstances when he sees that I am firm. 
What can he do anyway? ” 

“Sire,” said Pigault in a meditative tone, “I think 
you are deceiving yourself. . .You are only too well aware 
that Napoleon the First will not allow any one to play a 
Joke on him, and as regards your firmness — pardon me. 
Sire, if I have not too high an opinion of it. ... ” 

“You are candid indeed.” 

“I implore Your Majesty not to misunderstand me. 
But your natural kindness of heart, your love of peace. . ” 
“All right,” murmured Jerome, “You can save your 
eloquence ! I think m3’self this affair would be a little too 
risk}’ for mj’ first step toward emancipating myself. . . . 
But can you think of anything better? ” 

At this moment a valet entered the room and an- 
nounced with the most profound deference : 

“The courier from Paris ! ” 

Instinctivel}’ the King started up from his chair. A 
little more and he would have rushed himself into the 
ante-chamber to get the messages. He bethought himself 
however, just in time, and sat down again, while Pigault- 


10 


AGAINST THE STREAM. 


Lebrun hastened out, to return in a few seconds with a 
heavy load of papers. 

“As we have nothing more important on hand,” 
Jerome observed with poorly feigned indifference, “j’ou 
can look over the stuff and read aloud to me what j'ou find 
most amusing in it.” 

Pigault seated himself and began to look over tlie 
papers. 

“Despatch from the Department of Public Worship.” 

“ None of that ! ” 

“The Department of Foreign Affairs to the roj’al. . . ” 

“Next, next ! ” 

“To Her 31ajesty the Queen.” 

“From whom? ” 

“ Impossible to discover. Probably some lady friend.” 

“ Next ! ” 

“A letter from the Emperor to Your Majesty.” 

“ So soon again. . . .What can he want? Give it here 
. .Or no. . .Read it out loud. . . .You know I can’t make 
out that scrawl very well. ...” 

Pigault-Lebrun unfolded the communication and be- 
as follows : 

“ To my brother Jerome Napoleon, 

King of Westphalia ! ” 

“How’s that?” exclaimed Jerome. “‘My brother,’ 
does he say? Not ‘m}^ dear brother’? Then it’s going to 
be another high old epistle ! Go on ! ” 

The Librarian resumed : 

“All that I learn about you pi’oves to me that my 
advice, my plans, my commands, do not produce the 
slightest impression upon 3 'ou. Business details are too 
much for you. The duties of representation bore 3 'ou. 
>Iy brother, you must consider that the profession of a 
king has to be learnt ! A sovereign without the proper 


AGAINST THE STREAM. 


11 


representation is a monstrosity. You are fond of the 
pleasures of the table. You are fond of the women. The 
two together will be your destruction. Do as I do — only 

sta}' at the table one half hour, and let the women be 

women 

“What insolence ! ” the King stammered in the great- 
est excitement. “What concern is 'it of his whether I 
enjoy my life or not ! Such a thing never happened before 
in all histoiy ! I should like to know what I am a king 
for if I am not to have a good time ! You just see, Pigault, 
if the row is not again about one of my — lady friends ! ” 
“Ah, I cannot believe that.... We have taken too 
man}' precautions .... Isn’t the lovely Caroline considered 
b}' every one to be my wife? . . . And that German countess 
you brought from Munich, isn’t she regarded everywhere 
as the bride of your Physician in waiting? ” 

“ But the little Herbert!, the danseuse? ” 

“ Oh, pshaw ! haven’t we got her nicely fixed as a 
chambermaid with the wife. of the Minister of Justice? 
There is no chance of it, Sire. Not a soul can have con- 
ceived a single serious suspicion ! ” 

“You see everything in the rosiest light. Unfortu- 
nately I am only too well aware of the fact that eveiy one 
of 111}' steps is watched. Who can count the spies in my 
amiable brother’s pay ! Nowhere are we safe, not even 
any longer at our private little suppers. ...” 

“ Oh, Sire, you are a pessimist. There is no traitor in 
the circle of 3-our intimate friends ! ” 

“ I wish you were right ! But now read on ! I am 
curious to hear how it is going to turn out.” 
Pigault-Lebrun resumed his reading : 

“The Prince of Paderborn whom I appointed as your 
Chaplain, writes to the Minister of Public Worship that he 
can never get your consent to talk to you upon matters 


12 


AGAINST THE STREAM. 


pertaining to the Church. This is not as it should be. 
You ought to be interested in everything, even in religion.” 

“ That is too inuch ! I must let that tedious block- 
head lie to me, simplj' because my worthy brother has 
taken the notion into his head that it belongs to mj' trade ! 
But you just wait ! You shall learn to know me ! GrO on ! ” 

“ You sent your Chamberlain, Meerfeldt, to Hanover, 
because, as you expressed it, he bored you with his perpet- 
ual lectures on etiquette ! I should like to know how j'ou 
think 5'ou can act 3’our role of king, if the prompter is not 
there beside 3-011. I wish 3-011 to recall the aforesaid gen- 
tleman at once, and in such a wa3' too, that it will seem to 
proceed from your own impulse ! ” 

“ Ver3- well, veiy well ! ” said the king in a rage. “ I 
can see that m3' resolution to put an end to this despicable 
state of affairs was not formed an3' too soon ! — Go on ! ” 

“You neglect the Queen. Isn’t she aristocratic 
enough for you? — Wh3' do 3-011 not compl3' with 103- 
wishes? I shall expect to be informed ver3- soon of the 
approaching birth of an heir to 3-our throne. I send the 
rest of m3' orders to Prime ^Minister Simeon. He will 
acquaint 3’ou with them. I remain, 

“Your kindh'-disposed brother 

“ NAPOLEO|j.” 

At these last sentences the King had started up from 
his chair. His countenance was suffused with the blazing 
scarlet of rage. He clenched his fists and actualh' gasped 
for breath. 

“Pigault!” he cried, “You know I don’t know much 
about literary style and all that learned rubbish. ... But 
3-ou...,3'ou are a genius. ... You know all the tricks of 
the trade .... As eveiyboth' says, you are as smart as a 
steel trap .... ” 

“Your Majest3' has too flattering an opinion of me,” 


AGAINST THE STREAM. 13 

the Librarian replied with a charming bow, as he refolded 
the letter from the Imperator of France. 

“Pigault!” the King continued. “You are just the 
man for it — You must compose a reply to this disgraceful 
piece of nastiness for me, that will be everything it ought 
to be.” 

“ But, Sire, just consider. ...” 

“ I won’t listen to any excuses ; — I give you m3' royal 
word that I will never betra}' 3'ou. — Sketch out a letter for 
me that the Emperor will not be apt to stick in the frame 
to his min’or ! I will cop3' it out and return the original 
to 3'ou. Not a single human being will ever learn that 
3'Ou were the author of it ! ” 

“If Your Majesty will really' promise me. ...” 

“ I give 3’ou m3' word, Pigault, m3' word of honor as a 
king ! I swear it again ! — nobody' shall ever even suspect 
the true state of affairs.” 

“Very' well then, Sire. But I venture to protest once 
more — the joke may' be followed by' some unpleasant 
results.” 

“ Nonsense ! I am a sovereign in my' own right and 
am not obliged to submit to the insolence of any foreign 
potentate. T want to be independent — a better oppor- 
tunity' to cany this decision into effect will never turn up 
again. So, to work ! ” 

“ Tomorrow, Sire, if y'ou will be so kind. For such an 
important task one needs to collect all one’s energies.” 

“As you choose. But the sooner the better. A 
prompt reply' will more than double the effect.” 

“ Early' tomorrow morning, by eleven o’clock at latest, 
the draught will be in your hands.” 

“ Splendid ! And now we will drive these blue devils 
out of our heads. What have you planned for this 
evening? ” 


14 


AGAINST THE STREAM. 


“A gorgeous fete in the park. . . .Lanterns, fireworks, 
a ballet. ...” 

“ Ah, very nice indeed. The air is mild. We’ll have 
an elegant time.” 

“At what hour will Your Majesty descend?” 

“ About ten. Have a bath arranged for me beforehand.” 

“Poulet? ” 

“No, Burgundy. Au revoir.” 

* * 

* 

Early the next morning while the monarch of West- 
phalia was still buried in his downy couch, the talented 
Librarian seated himself at his desk, spread out the re- 
proving and warning letter from the Emperor at his left 
on the open panel, and studied it sentence by sentence, 
word by word, syllable by syllable. 

He wanted to imitate in his letter the style of the 
great correspondent, with all of the latter’s impressive 
originality and abruptness, with all of his sublime naivete 
and energy, and pay back each line of the Emperor’s letter 
in the same coin. After he had studied and pondered for 
about a quarter of an hour, he seized his pen and made it 
fly rapidly over the paper. In less than ten minutes his 
task was completed. Pigault could not help laughing at 
the remarkable production. The idea that he, the modest 
Reader to His Majesty of Westphalia, should be saying 
such audacious things to the dreaded potentate, Napoleon 
Bonaparte, struck him as exceedingly comical. Yet there 
was quite a considerable dose of anxiet}^ mixed with this 
sentiment. He had himself called the King’s attention to 
the fact that Napoleon did not allow any one to play jokes 
on him. Woe to the unlucky Librarian if it was ever 
found out who was the real author of this unprecedented 
document ! The Caesar whose annihilating wrath had 


AGAINST THE STREAM. 


15 


hurled the Nuremberg bookseller into the abyss, could also 
crush J erome’s confidant to atoms, if he happened to be in 
any dangerous mood when he received the letter. In the 
most favorable case, discovery would entail a more or less 
sensible imprisonment upon him, and really, after one had 
been living in dulci juhilo for a while in the magnificent 
palace at Wilhelms- or, as it was called then, Napoleon’s- 
Height, little inclination was experienced to exchange that 
paradise for a dungeon’s cell ! 

Pigault-Lebrun became actually pensive as these ideas 
passed through his mind. Slowdy he closed his portfolio 
with a snap, carefully he stuck his manuscript in his 
pocket and sauntered down stairs into the park to enjoy 
the fresh morning air. 

He had strolled up and down among the fragrant 
beds of flowers in the parterre for about an hour, when the 
idea occurred to him that he had forgotten to take the 
Emperor’s letter along with him. Swiftly he hastened to 
his apartment. On the landing-place he encountered the 
royal Aumonier, the Prince of Paderborn. 

“Ah, up so earl}'. Your Excellency?” he exclaimed 
in a tone that revealed his intense surprise. 

“ Yes indeed, sir,” the Prince replied with a smile. “ I 
thought it would be a sin to waste this glorious morning 
in bed. Besides don’t you hear? It is striking nine ! So 
it is not so terribly early after all any longer ! You have 
been taking a walk? How? ” 

Pigault-Lebrun replied with a few non-committal words 
and repaii’ed to his apartment. When there, he placed the 
letter from Paris in his pocket-book, lighted a cigar and 
threw himself at full length on the sofa, intending to Avhile 
away the time until his sovereign’s awaking in that most 
favorite occupation of the Westphalian Court — doing 
nothing. 


16 


AGAINST THE STREAM. 


He could not drive the Anmonier out of his head. 
What could have brought the reverend gentleman over 
here to this landing-place? His apartments were situated 
in the opposite wing of the palace. 

“I can not bear the sight of those fellows who are 
forever smelling around ! ” the Librarian muttered to him- 
self. “ In the end it all turns out to be spring. The King 
is right. There isn’t aii}^ longer a single soul here we can 
trust. I should like to know whether our suspicion in 
regard to the Master of Ceremony and the Minister of 
Justice has an}’ foundation in fact. ” 

Pigault gave himself up to the play of his extravagant 
imagination for a whole half hour. He passed the whole 
Court society in review before his mind, and occasionally 
shook his head like a man who was still dubious upon 
some matter. 

A sudden knocking startled him out of his revery. 

A royal valet entered the room and announced that 
His Majesty wanted to speak to His Excellency, the 
Librarian. 

“ Our most illustrious King is still in bed,” the man 
added. 

l^igault-Lebrun hastened to obey his sovereign’s Vie- 
hest. He found the King in the best of humors. 

“Sit down on this chair,” said Jerome with conde-- 
scending affability. “Have you fulfilled your promise?” 

“Of course. Sire!” his interlocutor replied in alow 
tone. “ But if Your iMajesty will allow me the suggestion, 
let us speak lower You, as a crowned head, have com- 
paratively little to risk in the affair, while I ” 

“ All right ! ” the King interrupted him in a much 
lower tone. “ If it will allay your fears, we can modulate 
our bass voice ; but I assure you your apprehensions are 
unfounded. Walls have ears, they say. This proverb 


AGAINST THE STREAM. 


17 


does not apply to my sleeping apartment however. The 
tw’o guards in the ante-room are true as steel, the rooms to 
the left and right are empty. ...” 

“One never knows, Sire,” Pigault replied, “through 
what crack the devil gets hold of one’s top-knot.” 

“You are a regular philosopher today, quite contrary 
to your usual habit. But to our affair. Have you the 
manuscript with 3’ou? ” 

“Yes indeed. Sire.” 

“Clearly’ written? You know illegible handwritings 
are my weak point.” 

“I think Your Majesty will be satisfied.” 

“Show it to me.” 

The Librarian drew the paper from his pocket and 
handed it to the King. 

“Hm, hm,” said Jerome, “it might be a little more 
distinct. . . .hm, hm. . . .dowm yonder there are some hor- 
rible flourishes and scrawls .... 

“It is a fact the manuscript was dashed off’ ver^' hur- 
ridly,” Pigault observed with a smile. 

“See here, j'ou can just read the thing aloud to me, 
that will be just about the same as if I read it.” 

“As Your Majest}’ commands. But 3011 will allow 
me to sit a little closer to you, so that it will not be 
necessaiy for me to raise m3’ voice too high.” 

“Heavens, how timid 3’ou are toda3’,” the King re- 
plied, laughing, “You must have got a moral headache 
from last night. And, b3’ the w’a3’, the ballet was splendid, 
perfectl3^ magnifique, on my honor. I had almost forgot- 
ten to congi’atulate you upon it.” 

“ Your Majest3’ is too kind. Will you allow me to 
begin? ” 

“All right, fire awaiy, old fellow ! ” 

Piffault-Lebrun seated himself close beside the head 


18 


AGAINST THE STREAM. 


of the royal bedstead, unfolded his manuscript and read in 
a whisper as follows : 

“To in}' brother, Napoleon, Emperor of France ! ” 

“ My ‘ brother,’ ” exclaimed the King, “ Not my ‘ ex- 
alted ’ or ‘ illustrious ’ brother? That is pretty strong ! ” 
“Sire,” Pigault replied. “Your German subjects 
have a proverb that, to be sure, is not very refined, but it 
is very expressive and pithy. This proverb is — ‘ Sausage 
for sausage.’ Do you understand what it means? ” 
“Somewhat. But I think. ...” 

“Listen to me further. — If you have any objections to 
make in regard to my composition, we will attend to the 
necessary alterations afterwards — So — ‘My brother Napo- 
leon, Emperor of France.’ I have received your letter of 
advice. — I respect it. As regards your commands, I am a 
King. I give commands, I do not receive them ...” 

“Pretty strong, pretty strong ! ” murmured the King, 
“but first rate, first rate ! ” 

The Librarian read on : 

“You reproach me with my fondness for lingering at - 
table. I acknowledge that I prefer the more substantial 
enjoyments of a well-set table to the vain chase after glory. 
— I am a gourmand without being a glutton, and I am 
confident that ray dignity as a king is not impaired by it 
in the least. In regard to the women, I really do not see 
how you are the one to preach to me on this point. You 
complain of my behavior toward the Queen — Your Majesty 
was able to compel me to marry her, but not to love her. 
You ask whether the Queen is not aristocratic enough for 
me. — Your Majesty has reiterated to me a thousand times 
that nothing was too exalted or aristocratic for the brother 
of a Napoleon — while I, on the contrary, never wanted to 
marry a grand dame. — You reproach me for not thinking 
sufficiently of the representation suitable to my rank. — 


AGAINST THE STREAM. 


19 


Let me infoim you that this representing is tiresome in 
the first place, and in the second, it is incompatible with 
my figure and m3' tournure — two things that in our family 
can not be designated as particular!}' imposing ” 

“That is a malicious little dig that will make him 
furiousl}' angry,” said Jerome with a smile of mischievous 
delight. “ You are really a biting satirist, Pigault. — I see 
I must take good care not to fall into disgrace with 3'ou.” 

The Librarian could not help laughing aloud. 

“ Listen, Sire to the rest. ‘ Besides I have modeled 
m3' court exactly after yours. I dress just as you do — what 
can 3'Ou want more? — The Prince of Paderborn with his 
everlasting sermons and masses makes me yawn. I w'ill 
keep him as Your Majest}' gave him to me, but I am under 
no obligations to converse with him on matters concerning 
the Church and other things, of which I understand noth- 
ing and do not want to understand ain'thing. I leave 
such things to the Department of Public Worship. — As to 
Meerfeldt, I appointed him prefect of Hanover as he makes 
an unrivalled official of that kind, and he does not make 
an agreeable chamberlain. Besides, I like to select those 
persons destined to wait upon me pcrsonalh', according to 
my requirements at the moment. Signed, 

“Jerome Napoleon.” 

“‘Signed...?’” cried the King, “But that is the 
most brutall}^ formal way.” 

“Then we will write, ‘Accept the assurance of my 
most profound respect.’ ” 

“ That formula is used in writing to those beneath one 
in rank ! ” 

“‘ Your sincerel}' attached brother What do 3'ou 
think of that? ” 

“ Very good ! It does not really commit one to aii}*- 
thing. We will write — ‘ Your sincerely attached brother.’ ” 


20 


AGAINST THE STREAM. 


The King had the manuscript handed to him in bed 
again, and pored over it with much eagerness. Then he 
placed it under his pillow and dismissed Pigault with a 
gesture. 

Jerome had himself dressed and after having dis- 
posed of his breakfast, he hastened to copy Pigault’s 
letter. He tore up a second and a third sheet of paper, 
until the fourth turned out to suit him.— While he was 
sealing the audacious epistle a malicious smile played 
about his lips. 

“There’s no doubt but what this cupping-glass will 
draw blood ! I would give anj’thing if I could be there to 
enjoy his expression of stupefaction, his blazing fury ! — 
Sooner or later the affair must have come to a break some- 
time ! — I will show to astonished Europe that I am not 
what I appear. Independence, liberty, dignity, — these are 
the indispensable prerequisites of the respect which ought 
to surround a throne. I consider myself too good to be 
nothing but a train-bearer to my worshipful brother. 
Either — or ! The die is cast ! ” 

In this self-conscious frame of mind he handed the 
letter to one of the guards of his chamber for immediate 
delivery to the Paris courier. 

A few hours later the momentous document was on 
the way. 

Oh Jerome ! Jerome ! 

* * 

* 

A fortnight had elapsed. 

Midnight had just struck on the steeples of the city 
of Cassel. The loyal subjects of the Westphalian monarch 
were sleeping the sleep of the just. The watchman was 
sauntering dolefully along the deserted streets puffing out 


AGAINST THE STREAM. 


21 


one tremendous cloud of smoke after the other from his 
long-stemmed pipe. 

But it was not quite so quiet in the apartment called 
the blue salon, in the palace at Napoleon’s-IIeight. A 
small but select company was seated there around a richlj^ 
spread table. The dessert had been brought on. The 
magnificent •fruits, exquisite dishes, frothing champagne 
and the other indispensable elements of a luxui'ious ban- 
quet shed an intoxicating odor around. The glasses struck 
in reckless abandon against each other. The noisy chaos 
of voices was only interrupted by the roar of some burst 
of laughter or the music of some gay chorus. In short, 
the blue salon was again the witness of one of those cozy 
soupers that began at eleven and lasted usuall}* till three 
or four o’clock in the morning. 

“ Here’s to the King’s health ! ” cried a blue-eyed little 
lady in a resplendent toilette. 

She seized her glass, jnit it to her mouth and emptied 
it at one draught. 

“Delicious angel!” murmured the King winding his 
arm around her waist. “You must take a kiss for that.” 

The lady resisted. 

“Heavens, how prudish!” Jerome exclaimed, laugh- 
ing. “What has got into 3'ou, Dili? There is nobody but 
our intimate friends here ! Fuerstenberg, our little Her- 
bert! need not impose any restraints on her feelings on 
3’our account, need she? ” 

The whole company' tittei’ed. 

“Our charming little friend,” the one addressed re- 
sponded, would be foolish beyond measure if she should 
allow any external considerations whatever to induce her 
to refuse the evidencies of Your Majesty’s favor.” 

“We are no German philistines, thank God !” added 
Count Winzingerofle. 


99 


AGAINST TIIK STREAM. 


“Do you hear that, Lili? Fuerstenberg, show the 
lady how the thing is done. Kiss 3'our ^lelanie ! ” 

The cavalier, who notwithstanding the German name 
he had been obliged to assume, had been and still was a 
true Parisian, flung his arm without further ceremou}' 
around the dazzling wliite neck of the lad^' seated next 
him and gave her a kiss on her scarlet lips that resounded 
loud through the room. 

“Ah, that isn't fair, dear Fuerstenberg,” cried Pigault- 
Lebrun with a comical frown. “You make eveiy one of 
us who is not so fortunate as 3'ou are, feel sad.” 

“ Each one does what he can ; eh, Melanie? ” 

“ Eli hien, Lili? ” 

“ I have alread3' told you that for two whole days 1 
have not been any expense to you,” Avas the pettish repK. 

“ How’s this? What’s this? ” resounded in chorus. 
“A dispute, a quarrel! I had almost said, a conjugal 
disagreement? ” 

“Our little dove is obstinate,” Jerome observed, and 
he poured down a glass full of sparkling Avine. 

“ No, no, onl3' firm ! ” Mademoiselle Ilei-berti replied. 

“Tell us all about it ! What has happened? ” 

“A mere trifle,” said the little lad3". “I asked His 
^lajest3' for a favor and he refused m3' request.” 

“Ah, this is unprecedented. Sire,” exclaimed Win- 
zingerode, laughing, “How could you refuse anything to 
such a divine creature.” 

“A king, gentlemen,” Jerome replied, “ is not a so a"-- 
ercign in all things. There are certain considerations. . . ” 

“But Avhat Avas it all about? "We don’t know an3'- 
thing 3-et. ...” 

“ A bagatelle,” pouted Lili, “ I requested the King to 
dismiss the Prince of Paderborn. ...” 


AGAINST THE STREAM. 23 

“Ah, the Aumonier,” said Fuerstenberg, “he is not a 
veiy agreeable personage.” 

“He is a spy,” Mademoiselle Herbert! added. 

“ VVhat makes you think that, Lili?” stammered 
J erome. 

“ A spy, I tell you. And the interests of us all de- 
mand that you give him his walking-ticket without a 
moment's delay.” 

“That is impo.ssible.” 

“ Impossible? Are 3’ou not the King? ” 

“Of course. . . .but. ...” 

“Why ‘but’? There ought not to be any ‘buts’ !” 

“But just consider. . . .You know. . . .His 3 Iajesty the 
Emperor. ...” 

‘‘ The Empei'or ! What has the Emperor to do with 
you?” 

“ He has. ... he is. . . .just consider. ...” 

“Ah, Sire ! ” cried the girl with an expression of pride 
that made her features wonderfully imposing, “You do 
not seem to be aware of the fact that we women demand 
resolution, energ}’, independence, courage, in our lovers, 
first of all, if our affections are not to waver. ...” 

The guests gazed at each other as if to ask whether 
this speech of the ex-danseuse was meant in joke or 
earnest. 

An embarrassing pause ensued. The King ivas visi- 
bly unpleasantl}' affected. No one wanted to be the first 
to break the silence. Each one was afraid of adding to 
the disagreeable impression produced by Lili's scathing 
remark, bj* some maladroit speech. 

“Mademoiselle Herbert!, ” said Jerome at last, not 
without some bitterness. “ I hope to be able veiy soon, 
})erhaps even by tomorrow morning, to prove to 3’ou that 
your reproaches Tvere not delivered at the right address. If 


24 


AGAINST THE STREAM. 


in a few important matters I do defer to my imperial 
brother, I do it of my own free will ! That I am capable 
of independence, energy and decision at the right moment, 
yon, above all others, ought never to have doubted. But 
as 3’ou do indulge in such extremely strange doubts, I am 
really gratified to be able to assert that, as I remarked be- 
fore, in a few days T shall be in a position to impress the 
contrary upon you. Take note of that. Mademoiselle 
Herbert! ! ” 

The King had uttered this long speech with plent}' of 
dignity, loudly and distinctly, and Lili, almost frightened, 
cast down her e3*es. She probably felt that she had gone 
too far. 

Jerome cast a significant, pregnant glance upon his 
Librarian. 

The honest Pigault felt the letter to which the King 
had referred as a weight upon his mind. Any da\' might 
bring the answer ; the Librarian did not attempt to dis- 
guise the fact to himself that the prospect of this exerted 
a depressing influence upon his spirits. 

At this moment a livel}' altercation began in the 
antechamber. 

Startled, eveiy one listened. 

“ I have the strictest orders ...” said one of the royal 
guardsmen. 

“ And I have orders still stricter,” a gruff voice re- 
plied. “Do not oppose me ! In the name of His Majesty, 
the Emperor of the French, I demand admittance ! ” 

Jerome grew pale. Pigault-Lebrun seized his glass 
to conceal his confusion. 

“Then allow me at least to announce j’ou to His 
Majest}* of Westphalia,” the guardsman stammered. 
“Whom shall I announce?” 

“ The Governor of Dantzig ! ” was the reply. 


AGAINST THE STREAM. 


25 


Half a minute later the door of the blue salon was 
flung open, and the Governor, escorted by an officer of 
the guards, entered the royal sanctum. 

All were speechless. 

The messenger from the Imperator bowed with 
knightly grace, and then turned to the king. 

“ Sire ! ” he said, “ I have an extremely unpleasant 
commission to perform.” 

Jerome grew as livid as the plaster on the wall. 
PigaulbLebruu sat like a convicted criminal and withdrew 
into his lace ruffles 

“This commission was entrusted to me by your illus- 
trious brother, the Emperor of the French. I left His 
Majesty in a state of excitement and fury be3'ond my 
powers to describe. ...” 

“But, excuse me, sir,” cried Fuerstenberg crossing his 
arms, “this is neither the time nor the place to discharge 
such commissions.” 

“I regret,” the one addressed coldl}" rejoined, “I re- 
gret that I am under the necessit}' of interrupting your 
convivial pleasures, but I am acting in obedience to the 
express command of my illustrious sovereign.” 

The King had lost his self-command so utterly that 
he had forgotten to ofler the Governor a chair, to say 
nothing of a glass of wine. Instead of doing so he seized 
his own glass and ventured to take one great gulp in his 
despair. 

Winzingerode hurled a dark glance at the alien 
intruder. 

The little Herbert! contemplated first the Governor 
and then her royal benefactor. A mocking smile trembled 
on her rose-bud lips. 

“Sire,” resumed the imperial ambassador, “I hope 
3'ou will not consider the messenger responsible for the 


26 


AGAINST TIIK STREAM. 


unpleasantness of the message and that 3^ou will for- 

give me, if I read aloud to 3-011 now, in accordance with 
the strict instructions T received, the following autograph 
decree from the Emperor. ...” 

“Oh no, no ! ” stammered Jerome, a pre3" to the most 
intense anguish of mind ; “that is to sa3". . .You know. . . 
Can’t we step into the next room? ” 

“I regret, Sire.... His Majesty’s instructions were 
very precise. You must allow these ladies and gentlemen 
to be involuntar3' witnesses to a scene that is as distressing 
to me as it is to yourself, Sire ! ” 

The King's head fell, as if he had decided to let the 
flood flow over him without resistance. 

“But such a thing is unheard of!” protested Fuer- 
stenberg. 

The Grovernor shrugged his shoulders. “ I reiterate 
m3' assurance that it is not my fault,” he replied. “ The 
decree reads as follows ; 

“ ‘ Imperial Decree. Our Aide de Camp, Oeneral Rapp, 
Crovernor of Dantzig, is to start at once for Cassel and re- 
quire the escort of Colonel Mueller, Commander of the 
Royal Guards. Accompanied b3' the said Mueller he is to 
proceed without the dela3' of an instant to the King and 
deliver His ^Majesty to this otticer as his prisoner. The 
King is to remain under arrest for forty-eight hours. 
PigaulhLebruu, the author of the criminal communication 
which our brother has just sent to us, is to be placed in 
prison for two months and then sent to Frankfort with a 
safe escort. We hereby entrust our Aide de Camp with 
full authority to take entire control of the Westphalian 
army in case an3' one is so insanel3’ blind as to resist the 
execution of our commands. Signed : 

“Napoleon.” 

Jerome sank l)ack annihilated in his arm-chair. 


AGAINST THE STREAM. 


27 


Pigault-Lebrun frowned and clenched his fists. Fuersten- 
berg’s and Winzingerode’s jaws dropped. Melanie was 
ciying. The little Herbert! cast a glance of infinite scorn 
upon her lover and arose haughtily from her chair. 

“Then we have no further cause to remain hero.” she 
observed coldlj’, “Commander, do your duty ! ” 

The imperial Aide de Camp bowed himself out, and 
Jerome tottered to his apartments — accompanied In’ tlie 
Colonel — not to leave them until the term of his arrest had 
expired. The authority given to the General by the Em- 
peror to call out the troops in case of need, was a super- 
fiuous precaution. The good and dutiful Jerome submitted 
like a well-trained child ; his peace-loving mind was as far 
as the poles from that “insane blindness” against which 
the supreme decree had considered it necessary to take 
precautions. If onl}’ the King s obsecpiious subjects had 
had the remotest suspicion of the wonderful tragedy that 
was then being performed with the royal palace for the 
theatre, and their dearly beloved Jerome for its much- 
suffering hero ! Perhaps it is just as well that the masses 
are not initiated into all the secrets of the diplomatic 
world ! 

PigaulbLebrun was cast into a dungeon. A subse- 
quent order from the Emperor prohibited any member of 
the Court from visiting the prisoner. The King wrote a 
humble letter to his severe brother in which he begged for 
forgiveness a thousand times and implored his friend’s 
release. xVll in vain. The Emperor sent him word in 
re})ly that Pigault must serve out his two months, and 
then leave the country without delay. After protracted 
importuning he gave the King permission to retain the 
Librarian in his service, in case the latter was willing to 
pine a month longer in prison. Pigault was willing and 


28 


AGAINST THE STREAM. 


glad to do this. To live at the Westphalian Court was 
worth any sacrifice in his opinion. 

‘“November 22d, 1810, his martyrdom was at an end. 
Pale and emaciated, he came before his sovereign, and 
smiled a bitter smile. 

Ell lien. Sire,” he said, “in future we will think 
twice before we mail any letters.” 

Jerome sighed. 

“Your penance has been severe, my friend,” he whis- 
pered dejectly, “but I have had a hard lot to bear, also.” 

“Ah, Sire, fort3"-eight hours. ...” 

The King stepped to his desk and took out a pink 
and perfumed note. 

“ There, read that ! ” he said. “ The dearest, the most 
charming, the most loyal of all my fair friends wrote me 
that, the day after your removal to prison.” 

Pigault read the note. The contents were : 

“Sire, — 

“ I am leaving j'ou and your country for ever. I have 
been most lamentably deceived in you. When I trod 
under foot all the duties that self-respect and regard for 
public opinion impose upon one; when I waited as a 
menial upon one of the members of j'our Court — I did it 
all siraplj" because I loved 3^0 u — loyally and tenderl3^, as 
onl3“ a woman can love. This confession will at least be 
my excuse if not m3’ justification in 3’our e3’es. But I did 
not know you. I thought you were noble, proud, knightl3'. 
I have become convinced of the contrar3’. I despise you. 

Elise Herberti.” 

Pigault-Lebrun did not utter a word. With downcast 
eyes he handed the note back to the King. 

Jerome locked it up again and then said in a lifeless 
tone of voice ; 

“It is hard work swimming against the stream. Your 


AGAINST THE STREAM. 


29 


proverb, ‘Sausage for sausage,’ may apply to the common 
folks of our Hesse here, but it does not apply to the 
Bonaparte famil}".” 

This said, he went on and remained an obedient 
brother ever after. 


INDEX TO PAGES 


OF THE 

“COLLECTION SCHICK," 

on which may he found the first paragraphs of each page of the 
English Translation. 

O 

TRUDEL’S BALL. 


English. 

German. 

English. 

German. 

English. 

German. 

PAGE. 

PAGE. 

PAGE. 

P.\GE. 

PAGE. 

PAGE. 

5. . , 

, . . . 5 

27. . . 

. . .22 

49.. . 

, ... 39 

G. . . 

. . . . G 

28. . . 

. . .23 

50. . . 

, . . .40 

7 . . . 

G 

20 • . . 

. . .23 

51. . , 

....41 

8.. , 


30. . . 

. . .24 

52. . , 

, . . .42 

9 . . , 

. ... 8 

31 . . . 

... 25 

53. . . 

, . . .42 

10. . 

. . . . 0 

32. . . 

. . . 2G 

.54. . , 

, . . .43 

11 . . 

. . . . 0 

33. . . 

. . . 2G 

55. . , 

, . . .44 

12. . 

10 

34. . . 

. . .27 

5G. . , 

. . . .44 

13. . 

11 

35 . . . 

. . .28 

57. . 

. . . .45 

14. . 

. . . .12 

3G . . . 

. . .20 

58. . , 


15. . 

. . . .13 

37 . . . 

. . .30 

59. . 

. . . .47 

IG. . 

. . . .13 

.38. . . 

... 30 

GO. . 

. . . .47 

17. . 

14 

30. . . 

... 31 

Gl. . 

. . . .48 

18. . 

. . . .15 

40 . . . 

. . .32 

G2. . 

. . . .49 

10. . 

. . . .IG 

41. . . 

...33 

G3. . 

. ... 50 

20. . 

. . . .17 

42 . . . 

... 34 

G4. . 

. . . .51 

21. . 

17 

43. . . 

, ... 34 

G5 . . 

. . . .51 

O') 

. . . .18 

44. . . 

. . . . 35 

GG. . 

. ... 52 

23. . 

. . . .10 

45. . . 

, . . .3G 

G7. . 

. . . . 53 

24. . 

10 

4G. . . 

....37 

G8. . 

. ... 54 

25 . . 

20 

47. . , 

, ... 37 

GO. . 

....55 ' 

2G . . 

. . . .21 

48. . . 

.. . .38 

70. . 

. . . .55 


INDEX TO PAGES 

OF TUE 

“COLLECTION SCHICK,” 

on which may he found the first paragraphs of each page of the 
English Translation. 

O 

THE F()RTI:NKS and fate of little 
SPANGLE. 


English. 

German. 

English. 

German. 

Engl ish. 

German. 

PAGE. 

PAGE. 

PAGE. 

PAGE. 

PAGE. 

PAGE. 

5. . 

. . .. 5 

21. . . 

. . .17 

37. . . 

... 30 

(j. . 

. . . . 5 


...18 

38. . . 

. . .31 


. . . . 7 

23. . . 

. . .19 

39. . . 

... 31 

8. . , 

7 

24. . . 

. . .20 

40. . . 

. . .32 

9. . . 

.... 8 

25. . . 

. . .20 

41. . . 

. . .33 

10. . 

. . . . 9 

2G... 

...21 

42. . . 

. ..34 

11... 

. ... 10 

27... 

22 

43. . . 

. . .35 

12. . , 

. . . .11 

28. . . 

. . .23 

44. . . 

. . .35 

•13. . , 

. . . .11 

29- . . 

. . .24 

45. . . 

. . .3G 

14. . , 

,. . .12 

.30... 

. ..24 

4G. . . 

...37 

15. . , 

, ... 13 

31 . . . 

...25 

47. . . 

. . .38 

IG. . , 

, . . .14 

32. . . 

. . .2G 

48... 

. . . 39 

17. . , 

. . . .14 

33. . . 

...27 

49. . . 

. . .40 

18. . , 

, . . .15 

34. . . 

. . . 27 

50. . . 

. . .40 

19. . , 

, . . .IG 

35. . . 

. ..28 

51. . . 

. . .41 

20. . , 

, . . .17 

3G. . . 

. . .29 

52. . . 

. . .42 



0 




AGAINST THE STREAM. 


English. 

German. 

English. 

German. 

English. 

German. 

PAGE. 

PAGE. 

PAtJE. 

pa'ge. 

PAGE. 

PAGE. 

5... 

.... 5 

14. . . 

. . .13 

23. . . 

*'*2 

G. .. 

... 5 

15. . . 


24. . . 

...23 

7. . . 

,. .. G 

IG 

. . .15 

25. . . 

. . .24 

8... 


17.... 

. . .IG 

2G. . . 

. . .25 

9. . . 

.. .. 8 

18. . . , 

. . .17 

27. . . 

. . .2G 

10. . . 

9 

19. . . , 

. ..18 

28. . . 

... 27 

11. . . 

. . .10 

20..., 

. . .19 

29. . . 

...28 

12. . . 

, . . .11 

21 ... , 

. . .20 



13... 

. . ..12 


. . .21 




THE CONVENTIONAL LIES OF OUR 
CIVILIZATION. 

FROM THE GERMAN OF MAX NORDAU. 

O 

OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 

The Spectator, London. In “The Conventional 
Lies of Our Civilization,” we have an excellent American translation 
of the seventh edition of a work by Max Nordau, which has been 
officially proscribed in Austria. The author, who holds that the 
world is utterly out of joint, believes the discontent and pessimism 
everywhere prevalent to be due to the perpetual conflict between our 
secfet convictions and our outward life. This inconsistency he treats 
under its various forms— the lies of Religion and of a Monarchy and 
Aristocracy, political, economic, matrimonial, and miscellaneous lies. 
If we admit his premises, as no reasonable Englishman will, that all 
cultivated people, consciously or unconsciously, accept the Material- 
istic theory of the Universe, then no doubt it must be allowed that 
there is a vast amount of self-deception afloat. Apart from this, he 
deals some telling blows at obvious anomalies in our civilised socie- 
ties in a trenchant fashion, and with the aid of a style far more 
incisive and epigrammatic, even in the translation, than we expect to 
find in a German writer. But many of his onslaughts lose their point 
to an English reader. His sketch of political life is obviously drawn 
from his experiences of American professional politicians ; and his 
picture of the galling restrictions of bureaucracy, under which the 
working classes suffer, may be true of Germany, but is a gross carica- 
ture of England. Finally, we would point out that his panaceas for 
the evils — physical, social, and economic — of civilised humanity, are 
partly Utopian, and mainly consist of a revolution in the land sys- 
tem, on conditions under which the purely physical excellence of the 
race would have the freest development. Now, the logical outcome 
of the evolution theory, in which he firmly believes, precludes the 
possibility of our ever reverting to such a regime of “physiocracy” 
as he describes. And Herr Nordau is by way of being nothing if not 
logical. Nevertheless, though more successful in the destructive than 
the constructive portions of his book, he in both compels our respect, 
though seldom our assent, by the sincerity and earnestness with 
which he propounds his views, even when they are most startling. 

Price: Paper, $1.00 ; 1.50. Mailed, pontpaid, on 

receipt of price, hy the p)uhlii^}icr, 

L. SCHICK, 128 & 130 Lake St., Chicago. 


THE 

CONVENTIONAL LIES OF OUR CIVILIZATION. 

0 

OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 

The Junior Liberal Review, London. Tlie 
writer of this work is an iconoclast, or, as the dictionaries put it, “a 
breaker of images.” He is of the coterie of thinkers to which 
Southey in his “ Vision of Judgment ” gives the appellation of the 
‘‘Satanic School.” The title is a strange one, but the work is still 
stranger, being in reality a wholesale and unsparing condemnation of 
the state to which mankind, after eighteen centuries’ struggling and 
stumbling, has arrived. Nothing escapes the censure and satire of 
the author’s pen. Religion, politics, society, the press— all the insti- 
tutions of our day, whether they be of advanced America or retro- 
grade Russia, whether they be relics of the old or products of the 
new, decaying or developing, are scoffed at by the author as “lies,” 
which must be exorcised from the world. Brilliant, pungent, and 
profound, displaying powers of discerning insidious evil where good 
alone is supposed to exist, M. Nordau, notwithstanding, chills the 
feeling, and alienates the sympathy of his reader by the extravagance 
and morbidness of his unhealthy pessimism. Characterized by a 
strange fervidness and force, pervaded by an enthusiasm which if it 
resembles fanaticism in the dogmatism of its denunciation, is at any 
rate the outcome of an analytical study of the things against which it 
is directed, the book weakens its title to l>e i^garded as the work of a 
true reformer by the licentiousness of its language. But while few will 
think our modern civilization deserving of the philippic the author 
has directed against it, the work is both valuable and interesting as 
giving us in a succinct form all that can be said against existing insti- 
tutions and the principles which they embody, and said, too, with a 
power and incisiveness of expression which will make it a matter for 
surprise, if they do not cause it to become a world-known book. If 
we recoil from the miasma of pessimism to which M. Nordau invites 
us we can at any rate profit by his vigorous and searching inquiry 
into the evils from which the world is suffering. And assurdly pessi- 
mism, whether it be religious or political, had never a more talented 
exponent than the author of this work. 

W A s H l N G T O N P o s T. It is a work that will command atten- 
tion and inquiry, the world over. 

Indianapolis News. It discusses the falseness of the 
existing social, political and economic institutions in a manner at 
once interesting and audacious, at times extremely radical. 


GALLERY OF MODERN MASTERS. 


A Selection of ArtiKlic RejJrodnctions from Prominent 
Modern iro?7»’.s of Painting and Sculpture. 

With Explanatory Notes. 

First Series. 15 Parts, containing 8 large engravings, 14 x 21 in. 
each, and explanatory notes, at 75 cents per part. 

O 

OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 

Indianapolis Journal: The execution of the cuts is 
faultless. * * * They will elicit admiration and favorable com- 
mendation among artistic people everywhere. 

Burlington H a w k e y e : To enumerate the good would 
require a lengthy list, for there are none without merit and few that 
are not impressive. 

National Republican, Washington: The Gal- 
ery which Mr. Schick offers to the public surpasses in excellence 
anything lately coming under our notice, all the engravings being on 
wood and bearing evidence of patient and laborious work by engrav- 
ers of the highest talent. Supplementing the engravings are explana- 
tory notes which are well written and add to the interest aroused by 
the pictures. 

Daily Alta California, San Francisco: — 
Whoever is interested 4 n the study of art will be amply repaid by a 
subscription to this publication. 

Philadelphia Press: * * * * Many of the wood 
engravings are worth framing and would be effective on the wall. 
The collection, as a whole, is an interesting one. The explanatory 
text varies from a sketch of the artist’s career to a long description of 
a picture, or an apt quotation from some illustrative poet. It is hand- 
somely printed, and, considering the extraordinarily low price, ought 
to be in thousunds of households, both in the East and in the West. 

American Bookseller: It is what it professes to be, 
an art gallery for the family. 

Cincinnati Commercial Gazette: 'I'he fine work- 
manship of the publication can be seen by opening any of the serial 
parts at random. 

Sample copies sent prepaid on receipt of Fifty Cents. 

Iw. PC HICK, PuBbiNiiER, 128 & 130 Lake Pt., Chicago* 


GALLERY OF MODERN MASTERS. 


Times Democrat, New Orleans: L. Schick, of 
Chicago, has now in process of execution an elaborate and beautiful 
series of plates consisting of artistic reproductions from prominent 
modern works of painting and sculpture, which are to be grouped and 
published under the title of Gallery of Modern Masters, in from 
twelve to fifteen parts. Each part is to contain eight plates with 
descriptive and explanatory notes, short biographical notices of the 
respective artists, and quotations in prose or verse from various 
writers that are appropriate to or inspired by the pictures they accom- 
pany. Twelve portions of the work are already completed, and the 
ninety-six plates contained therein are finely executed engravings of 
the masterpieces of fifty-one painters and sculptors representing many 
schools and nationalities and an extensive range of subjects and 
studies. It has been determined to make the selection entirely from 
the works of recent — many of them still living — masters of the brush 
and chisel, in order that acquaintance may be made and familiarity 
acquired by lovers of art with many meritorious and not a few now 
world-famous pictures, some of which can only be occasionally seen 
at periodical public exhibitions, while others are quite unknown, save 
by reputation, to any save their fortunate possessors. The subjects 
embrace, for the most part, the works of genre, and historical 
painters. There are also ideal and poetic studies and character 
sketches, a few mythological and sacred representations, while thus 
far in the collection an almost total absence is observable of land- 
scapes, marine or still-life pieces, of which, as evidenced by recent 
art exhibitions at the North, there are numerous very modern speci- 
mens, well deserving reproduction in the pages of a work otherwise 
so wortliily representative of the best products of the century. To 
remedy this apparent oversight, and also to introduce an occasional 
fruit or flower piece into the subsequent numbers, may perhaps be 
the design of the publisher, whose selections are characterized all by 
exquisite taste, judgment and discrimination. The reproductions are 
too numerous, and, with few exceptions, too meritorious to particu- 
larize by individual mention. Among them are the works of such 
artists as W. von Kaulbach, Michael Munskacsy, Gabriel Max, Paul 
Martin, Edward Detaille, B. Vautier, C. Dieterle (whose “Corinne 
Dolorosa” as here given is superlatively lovely and effective), E. 
Gruetzner (famous for his ” Falstaff ” series), Schroeder, Wagner, 
Spangenberg, Thumann, and other painters and sculptors, French, 
German and Norwegian, who are foremost in the van of artistic 
conception and achievement. 


(£rfd)icncne Hummern 
ber 

Collection Sd^id. 

o 

9?o. 1. S inb au, 9fiub 0 I f, ^an§ ber 5:raumev ; 33erIovene§ 
9)Kit)eu ; (Svfte Stebe. 

„ 2. S eir a I b, ^ovncl^me SSelt ; 3!Jiabd;en 

uou Oijn§, 

„ 3 . ©effteiu, Grnft, ®ie 9[Rabd;en be§ ^enfionnt§ ; 

®er 33cfud; tm (Career. 

2B 1 1 b V 0 u b t, b 0 1 f, ‘IDcr Sootl'encommanbcuv. 

4 , ,g)ci)ic, ^aul, S’5tvrabinta ; ©eppe, ber ©tern; 
fe(;er; ^krin granciSen. 

„ 5 . ^ 0 p f e n, 5;ruber§ 33ad ; ^tni'errs (SUiid unb (5nbe. 

©dftein, (Srnft, SBtber ben ©trom. 

„ 6. ^rnnjoS, jlarl Gniil, !S^er ©^plod non ^Car; 

non) ; 9^nd^ bem (;6(;cren @e|e^! 

® r 0 5 , ® ii ft a D, 2)a§ £inb. 

„ 7. 3Sid)ert, (Srnft, 23etenntnif|c einer nrmen ©eete. 

S i n b n n, n b o I f, Xobtnd)e ^el)be. 

9to ben berg, 9Jtein gvennb, ber ©riinber. 

0 1 e n t fj n t ; 93 0 n i n, ilnnft nnb 9tatur. 

„ 8. Stub an, ^err nnb f^ran 93en)er. 

©dftein, (S., ©ine 9tbenbninnbernng. 

„ 9. 3 e n f e n, 933 i H) e I in, 93?onifa iBalboogel. 

^ e 1 ) f e, 93 « It I, »on %. 

„ 10. ©tor m, 9: t) e 0 b 0 r, G^arften Snrator. 
gtiel)!, 9B. Jp., ®er ftiimme 9tatt)§]§err. 
^ndtdnber, %. 9S., ($in erfter unb ein tester 
93aa. 


X'ie ndd)ften 9cummern bringen : — 

9oviite ^Jteper ; (5in ©tunn auf bem ^iienoalbftcibtcr ©ee. fbic: 
roni)nni§ Vorm: ®ic if'bdofopbic eine§ itu)je§. 5i?ilbrnnbt: 'Hin 
beiligen ramm. 9i'ilte bc§ .fier’^cn^ ic. K. 


GALLERY OF MODERN MASTERS. 


Times Democrat, New Orleans: L. Schick, of 
Chicago, has now in process of execution an elaborate and beautiful 
series of plates ccyisisting of artistic reproductions from prominent 
modern works of painting and sculpture, which are to be grouped and 
published under the title of Gallery of Modern Masters, in from 
twelve to fifteen parts. Each part is to contain eight plates with 
descriptive and explanatory notes, short biographical notices of the 
respective artists, and quotations in prose or verse from various 
writers that are appropriate to or inspired by the pictures they accom- 
pany. Twelve portions of the work are already completed, and the 
ninety-six plates contained therein are finely executed engravings of 
the masterpieces of fifty-one painters and sculptors representing many 
schools and nationalities and an extensive range of subjects and 
studies. It has been determined to make the selection entirely from 
the works of recent-:— many of them still living — masters of the brush 
and chisel, in order that acquaintance may be made and familiarity 
acquired by lovers of art with many meritorious and not a few now 
world-famous pictures, some of which can only be occasionally seen 
at periodical public exhibitions, while others are quite unknown, save 
by reputation, to any save their fortunate possessors. The subjects 
embrace, for the most part, the works of genre, and historical 
painters. There are also ideal and poetic studies and character 
sketches, a few mythological and sacred representations, while thus 
far in the collection an almost total absence is observable of land- 
scapes, marine or still-life pieces, of which, as evidenced by recent 
art exhibitions at the North, there are numerous very modern speci- 
mens, well deserving reproduction in the pages of a work otherwise 
so worthily representative of the. best products of the century. To 
remedy this apparent oversight, and also to introduce an occasional 
fruit or flower piece into the subsequent numbers, may perhaps be 
the design of the publisher, whose selections are characterized all by 
exquisite taste, judgment and discrimination. The reproductions are 
too numerous, and, with few exceptions, too meritorious to particu- 
larize by individual mention. Among them are the works of such 
artists as W. von Kaulbach, Michael Munskacsy, Gabriel Max, Paul 
Martin, Edward Detaille, B. Vautier, C. Dieterle (whose “Corinne 
Dolorosa” as here given is superlatively lovely and efiective), E. 
Gruetzncr (famous for his “ Kalslaff” series), Schroeder, Wagner, 
Spangenberg, Thumann, and other painters and sculptors, French, 
German and Norwegian, who are foremost in the van of artistic 
conception and achievement. 


(£rfd 7 icnene Hummcrn 
ber 

(Eollcction Sd)\cS. 

1 . S i n b n u, u b 0 [ f, ber ^Jraumcr ; 95erIorene§ 
3Jiu§cn ; Orvfte I'iebc. 

„ 2. £ eui a (b, ; I)a§ 'IRabd^cii 

Doii Ci)a§. 

„ 3. ©dfftein, (Jrnft, 'Die 3Jidbd^eu bc§ ^enfioimtS ; 

®er Scfuc^ ini farcer. 

2B i ( 6 V a u b t, b o ( f , ®cr £oot[cncommanbeiiv. 

„ 4. S’^lrvnbiata ; S3eppe, ber ©terns 

fel}er; 3[)tnria ^ranciSca. 

„ 5. 0 p fen, Grubers ®aU ; @lu(f uitb ©nbe. 

(? if ft e t n, (5 r n ft, 3®iber ben ©trom. 

„ 6. ^ranjoS, 5larl ©mil, ®er ©^plodf oon 23ar; 
non); fl^ad) bcm l^otjcren ®c)el^! 

® r 0 3 , ® n ft a o, jl)ad £inb, 

„ 1 . 23ici^ert, (Srnft, 93efcnntniffc einer armen ©eele. 

£ i n b a n, n b o t f, ^tobtlidje iyel)be. 

9i' 0 b e n b e r g, SDlcin 5''’c»”b, ber (Mriinber. 

0 1 e n t (j a I ; 23 0 n i n, Jp. , ^'iinft nnb Slatur. 

„ 8, £ tub on, 23., ^'^err n:ib J^ran 23cn)cr. 

d' d ft e i ;i, (S., dine 2(bcnbmanbcnnig. 

„ 9. e n f e n, 2B i f 1; e 1 m, 'Hionifa 2i3atbDogeL 

e i) f e, 23 0 u I, f^ran uon fv. • 

„ 10. ©tor m, ^ ^ e 0 b 0 r, darften dnrator. 
ffttel^l, S. ,1^., ®er ftnmine fKatl^jjl^err. 
t^ndteinber, %. 2S., din erftcr nnb ein letter 
23aa. 


Tie nad)ften 'Ihimmevn bringen : — 

Souife iytei)cv: Oin Sturm auf bem I'ierraalbftabtcr Sec. Ajies 
ronpmuS 2orm: Tic ^ineS ^uffeS. JlJilbranbt ■Sim 

beiligen Tamm, ffiitle be§ .^erjenS jc. jc. 


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